Edo
by Elfgoddess00
Summary: The Weiss boys, Edo style. Can anyone say samurai? I knew that you could. Rating for language and gore.
1. A Snake in the Grass

Gak, ok, Quick edit is confusing as all hell. Hopefully this works. Sorry for the confusion folks. Combining chapters is _not_ fun…….

Author's Note

Right. So normaly I'm not a big fan of the author's note, especially if it's before the story, but in this case, I think it's pretty necessary. I'll try not to bore you. Unfortunatley, these may come up frequently with the new introduction of different character types. You'll have to pardon me, this is my first fanfic, and first time working on FF.

First, the story is rated R for language and gore. There are some pretty violent (at least in my opinion) scenes in here, and Ken, among other people, has a pretty foul mouth. If you're sensitive to blood, injury, and bad language, you should probably avoid this fic.

Next: Ken is a ninja in this story. So let me explain a few things that I was unable to work into the story context:

Ninjas probably did not run around in black or/and white outfits all the time. In fact, since they're trying to be inconspicuous, they often went around dressed as samurai. Although they worked in secret in service to their employer or _Tomo-sama_, they also often held the same high rank as samurai as well. They also often dressed as traveling salesmen, which during this period, equates to men and/or women selling medicine, tea, herbs, etc. There are also rumors of them having dressed as bards as well. At the palace of the Shogunate (as in the head of the Tokugawa government), ninjas were employed as gardeners, to keep watch on the grounds, the guests, and other Shogunate employees. Generally, any disguise which enabled them to carry weapons without invoking suspicion was preferred.

About weapons, as far as I can see, the rumor of the Ninja-to was invented by sword manufacturers. Ninjas did carry swords when they could without suspicion (i.e. dressed as a samurai), but not often. Swords are large and difficult to conceal. This makes them a liability when confronting an enemy, as the element of a surprise weapon is gone. Often, however, ninjas would do things such as keep a wakezashi (the smaller of the pair of swords a samurai carries) in a katana sheath. A wakezashi is smaller, lighter, and unexpected. Ninjas had no qualms about how they killed. 'Any means necessary' was fine.

Now, for some vocab. Sorry about all this…

_Shoji_ : The paper-covered sliding window frames in traditional-style Japanese architecture.

_Ryokan_ : A traditional-style Japanese Inn. In these times, it probably meant more of a public inn than anything else.

_-kun, -san, -sama _: the –kun prefix is used to refer to subordinates; those younger than you, or beneath you in rank or place of employment. This is why Omi can call the rest of Weiss –kun and get away with it. Technically, he's the highest ranking out of all of them. Often, this term is more of an affectionate or friendly meaning. But not always. The –san prefix simply means Mr./Mrs., etc., and is used as a term of respect, regardless, sometimes of friendship. I'm living in Japan right now, and all my friend's names have a –san on the end of them, and they do the same for me. Finally, the –sama prefix is an honorific that is not used often in Japan anymore. It's equivalent could be close to sir, lord, or lady, but it can also be used by someone who has a deep love or respect for another person. That usage is rare, however.

_Jyonin :_ As I understand it, this is the highest ranking ninja beneath the ninja leader, or Tomo-sama. Not too clear on this, because one of the Japanese teachers here said she'd never heard of it. Although I've come to understand they don't know as much about this sort of thing as well all think they do. looks embarrassed For now, it's staying.

_Tomo-sama_ : The head of a ninja clan, or the man who employs them.

_Geisha_ : Contrary to confusion, Geisha do not offer sexual services, and are highly, highly respected in Japanese culture, as well as socially. Some geisha, even in modern times, have body-guards. They sing, dance, flirt, and play musical instruments. It is their job to be gay (happy and light, people) and entertaining.

_Zabuton_ : The cushions that the Japanese sit on when sitting on the floor.

_Haori, Gi, Hakama_ : The elements of traditional Japanese clothing. Probably not completely correct. Hakama are wide, pleated baggy pants worn by samurai, priests, and those who practice martial arts. Gi, are the white, plain under er…kimono that are worn underneath the Hapori, or Happi, which are the equivalent of a Jacket. Think Inuyasha. Sesshomaru and Inuyasha both wear all three of these items, and then some.

_Wakezashi_ : The smaller sword in the pair of swords worn by samurai. (Called the Daiso, or _large-small_) It is a bit straighter and shorter than a katana. As a gesture of peace, a samurai was required to leave his katana on a rack at the entrance of most establishments he entered. The wakezashi, however, was worn on his person at all times, thus ensuring his protection.

"_Gochisosama deshita_" : This signals the end of a meal and one's departure. It means roughly "Thanks for the food, it was tasty.", which sounds lame, but there really isn't an equivalent in English. Kind of like "Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu." Who the hell says "please regard me favorably" in the English language?!

Ok, so that's all for now. Are you still around? Wow. I'm impressed. Sorry about the length. Trust me, I could write a ten pager on all the cultural foot notes for this thing. I'm so in love with Japanese culture. Hence why I'm living here now I suppose… Ok, you've waited long enough. On with the show! Hope you like it!!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 1**

"**_A snake slipped away._**

**_Only his eyes having looked at me  
Remain in grass."_**

_**-**Kiyoshi Takahama_

It　was　early　morning　on　the　outskirts　of　Edo,　Japan.　The　blood　red　rays　of　the　sun　crept　slowly　through　tall,　narrow　pine　trees,　transforming　the　already　red-brown　bark　into　a　foreboding looking　crimson.　It cut　through　the　darkness　of　the　small　forest　to　fall　gently　upon　the　shoji　at the　back　of　a　small　ryokan at　the　edge　of　the　woods.　It　forced　its　way　through　the　thick　yet　delicate　paper　to fall　directly　upon　the　sleeping　face　of Hidaka Ken.　　

　 He　scrunched　his　eyes　shut　and　wrinkled　his　nose　in　slight　irritation　before　rolling　over　on　the　small, flat　futon　and　pulling　the　blanket　over　his　eyes.　This,　of　course,　only　served　to　leave　his　feet　bare,　which　was　almost　as　annoying.　With　no　fire　lit　yet,　the　air　in　the　room　still　held　the　deep　chill　of　a　mid-autumn　morning.　Ken　tried　to　pretend　his　feet　weren't　cold　in　the　name　of　getting　just　a　little　more　sleep.　He　really should　not　have　had　that　last　bottle　of　sake.　Honestly,　what　had　he　been　thinking?　Certainly　not　that　he　was　going　to　be　up　with　the　sun　the　next　day.　

He　lay　in　the　stillness　for　a　little　while　more,　trying　to　gain　rest　and　comfort　from　the　soft sounds　of　the　woods　and　the　early risers　on　the　street　in　front　of　the　ryokan.　

His　peace　was　disturbed　with　finality　as　the　sounds　of　the　cook　and　maids　going　about　their　business　at　the　front　of　the　inn　increased　in　volume　with　the　ever expanding　sun light.　He　sighed　and　rolled　onto　his　back.

A　muffled　groan　sounded　from　the　general　direction　of　his　lower　right　leg.　Ken　chuckled　and　reached　out　to　gently　whack　a　sleepily　rumpled　mass　of　soft　black　hair.　

"What's　the　matter　Ryuuta-kun?　Can't　hold　your　sake?　he　teased　without　even　having　to　look.　Another　groan,　this　one　less　muffled　and　more　pronounced,　told　Ken　that　Ryuuta　was　probably　glaring　at　him.　

"I　can　hold　it　just　fine　when　I　get　some　sleep　afterwards!　　How'm　I　supposed　to　function　with　a　hangover　at　the　crack　of　dawn?!"　he　grumbled　in　exasperation.　Ken　looked　over　just　in　time　to　see　　Ryuuta's　　dark　head　hit　his　futon　forehead　first　in　tired　aggravation.　He　chuckled　again.　

"Just　like　the　rest　of　us　kiddo.　It　builds　character.　It's only tough　the　first　few　times."　Ken　replied　good naturedly.

"Che." Ryuuta　snorted. " I think　maybe　it's　a　sign　that　we　shouldn't　be　drinking　while　on　business.　Anything　that　causes　this　much　pain　afterwards　probably　shouldn't　be　repeated."　

"Shut　the　hell　up　and　take　it　like　a　man　son.",　another　voice,　this　one　slightly　roughened　by　a　mountain　accent,　rumbled　into　the　conversation.　　"Fuck off　Takehiro!　I　didn't　say　I　couldn't take　it,　I　just　said　it　was　fucking　painful." Ken　chuckled　again,　this　time　joined　by　Takehiro　at　Ryuuta's　　heated　response.

　　　"Well　if　you　can　take　it,　then　stop　bitching　so　much　and　shut　the　hell　up.　Some　of　us　are　trying　to　get　a　little　rest　in　here!"　Takehiro　growled　when　he　finished　laughing.　

"I think　you　all　need　to　shut　the　hell　up　and　have　some　consideration　for　the　rest　of　us."　another　voice,　this　one　somewhat　quieter　and　deeper,　growled　from　the　far　corner　of　the　room.　

"Sorry Yanagi-san."　they　all　replied　in　unison,　somewhat　subdued.　　

Yanagi had become the oldest and most serious member of their group. His family was　one　of　the　oldest　in　the　Kouichirou Village　clan,　and　one　of　the　most　respectable.　Or　it　had　been　until　recently.　Ken　knew　Yanagi's　increase　in　a　more　severe　temperament　as　of　late　was　probably　due　to　the　fact　that　he　hadn't made　the　rank　of　_jyonin_;a　first　failure　in　his　family　for　generations.　Traditionally,　the　eldest　son　of　the　Yanagi clan　had　always　made　high　rank　as　one　of Tomo-sama's　jyonin,　but　this　year,　he　had　not.　Ken　had　instead　risen　in　his　place.　It　was　the　first　time　such　an　honor　had　been　bestowed　upon　anyone　in　Ken's　family.　That　Ken　was　at　least　a　good　eight　years　younger　than　Yanagi　hadn't　helped　to　ease　the　embarrassment.　And　it　certainly　hadn't　done　anything　to　quench　the　rumors　flying　around　the　village　about　the　Yanagi　family's　sudden　and　mysterious　loss　of　favor　with　the　　Tomo-sama. As a result, Yanagi　had　been　particularly　irritable　in　the　face　of　having　to　be　on　a　mission　during　which　Ken　was　in　charge;　his　orders　having　come　from　the　Tomo-sama　himself.　Yanagi　had　not　taken　that　very　kindly.　He　had　been　conspicuously　absent　from　their　small　post-mission　pre-return home　drinking　party　the　previous　evening.　Such　an　insult　had　not　gone　unmissed　by　anyone,　and　the　atmosphere　had　been　particularly　strained, despite the soothing presence of several lovely and locally talented geisha to lighten the atmosphere. They still had all drank far more than was likely wise.

Ken　groaned　and　rolled　over,　pulling　the　blankets　over　his　head　once　more.　He　was　not　looking　forward　to　a　day　spent　beneath　Yanagi's spiteful,　jealous　glare.　The　period　of　heavy, uneasy　silence　that　descended　upon　the　room　afterwards　did　not　make　his day　look　any　more　promising.　

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A short　while　later　saw　their　bleary-eyed,　rough-looking　party　downstairs　in　the　inn　breakfast　room, sitting less than enthusiastically on the forest-green zabuton around the low wooden table as they　wearily　eyed　their　large,　traditional　breakfast.　The inn-keeper's wife and a maid scurried to get them all rice and pour tea, all the while chatting amiably about this and that. Ken listened with half an ear, for although their chatter was boring him, he knew often that local gossip was one of the best sources of information available. He watched his men as he listened and chatted politely with the boisterous women. Nearly all of them were　eating　as　if　they　hadn't　eaten　in　three　days. Only Ryuuta sat and picked weakly at his food, looking slightly green. Yanagi ate slowly and purposefully, taking his time. Ken already knew they would have to wait for him to finish as they had at dinner the last evening. Which should have been unnecessary, as he had been the first one ready and downstairs in the breakfast room. It really agitated Ken that a grown man would be so immature as to let his spite and anger affect everyone instead of simply the target of such emotions. It was an underhanded thing to do and Ken had not expected it from the seemingly stern, professional man.

　It　usually　took　more　than　a　hangover　to　dampen　Ken's　ravenous　appetite　but　coupled　with　the　tense　air　and　his　continuing　discomfiture,　he picked　at　his　roasted　fish　half-heartedly. A shame, as salmon was usually one of his favorites.　He　wound　up　forcing　himself　to eat a tiny bit　only　so　as　not　to　insult　the　innkeeper　or　the　cook by leaving it untouched completely. He　tried　telling　himself　that　he　was　going　to　need　the　energy,　but　somehow,　he　couldn't　help　feeling　that　the　rock　that　had　taken　up　residence　in　his　stomach　was　not　going　to　like any company.　

He　tried　telling　himself　that　his　uneasiness　about　Yanagi　had　much　to　do　with　the　fact　that　he　felt　he　had　betrayed　a　clansman　by　somehow　taking　what　was　rightfully　his.　Perhaps　he　had　been　awarded　his　rank,　but　Ken　somehow　felt　as　if　he　did　not　deserve　it;　as　if　he　had　cheated　the　　Yanagi　family　out　of　an　age-old　honor not to be broken. Yanagi　making　everyone　else　miserable　as　a　result　did　nothing　to　alleviate　Ken's　guilt. Yanagi _knew_they　all　had　to　wait　until　he　finished.　Although　he　was　not　ranked　as　leader,　he　was　still　ranked　as　eldest,　and　therefore　was　able　to　command　a　certain　degree　of　respect.　The　act　was　blatantly　spiteful,　which　dragged　the party's 　already　dark　mood　further　downwards.　Ken　was　beginning　to　anticipate　a　fight　from　the　murderous　message　forming　itself　in　Takehiro's eyes as　they all finished eating. All except Ryuuta and Ken, who politely covered all their dishes and gently pushed them back slightly. Ken was sure the inn keeper and his wife would understand.

As he waited,　Ken　tugged　nervously　at　his　haori　and　fidgeted　with　his　wakizashi　sheath.　He　looked　around　sharply　yet　discreetly　to　insure　that　they　were　not　being　watched　or　under　suspicion　after　their　previous　evening's　　activities; the　ones　that　had　taken　place　_before_they had gotten　drunk.　The mission　had　really　been　almost　too　easy.　There　hadn't　been　a　single　complication.　All　of　the　intended　victims　were　in　the　correct　place　at　the　right　moment.　Ken　could　have　done　his　job　with　his　eyes　closed.　It　was　this　ease　coupled　with　the　already　tense　atmosphere　that　had　depleted　Ken's　appetite.　He　felt　rather　ill　now.　He　was　lucky　he　had　managed　to　even　eat　the　small　amount of food that　he　had.　

All　morning　he　had　felt　they　were　being　carefully　observed.　The　hair　on　his　neck　hadn't　stopped　standing　straight　up　from　the　moment　he　　gotten　out　of　his　futon.　Ken　hadn't excelled　to　the　rank　on the base of loyalty alone.　He　was　nothing　if　not　incredibly　sharp　and　alert.　His　senses　were　keen　and　astute,　and　they　had　been　telling　him　since　the　start　of　the　trip　that　something　was　off.　The　previous　evening　at　the　tea　house,　　while　the　others　had　congratulated　themselves　on　their　skill　over　sake,　Ken　had　been　drinking　to　dispel　the　nervous　tension　that　was　hanging　around　his　shoulders.　He　　tried　to　tell　himself　it　was　only　because　it　was　the　first　mission　he　had　led　without　the　aid　of　another　jyonin.　One　whom　was　older　with　more　experience. No　matter　how　many　times　or　how　thoroughly　he　checked,　he　could　find　no　threats. Now,　as　they　waited　for　Yanagi　to　finish,　however,　the　feeling　was　stronger　than　ever,　and　it　made　Ken　maintain　a　nervous　grip　on　the　hilt　of　his wakizashi, longing to take up his katana once more. It hung innocently on a rack for swords near the entrance, along with many of the other, mostly-ordinary looking katanas. His　eyes　swept　the　room　once　more　before　glancing　to　check　on　Yanagi's　　progress.

Yanagi　was　staring　at　Ken　in　a　way　that　set　his　skin　to　crawling　along　his　body,　and　a　small　earthquake　began rumbling　in　his　stomach. Not from hunger either.　Ken　swallowed　and　his　grip　tightened　reflexively.　He　suddenly　had　an　odd　feeling　he　needed　to　get　them　all　home　soon.　Yanagi　slowly　went　back　to　eating,　his　eyes　never　leaving　Ken's　face.　Ken　looked　away　after　a　moment,　his　eyes　sliding　once　more　to　their　immediate surroundings.　Yanagi　　finally　put　his　chopsticks　on　the　chopstick　rest　and　pressed　his　hands　together,　performing　a　slight　bow.　This　was　accompanied　by　the　traditional "Gochisosama　deshita."　spoken　solemly, signaling the end of the meal, and their imminent departure. Ken uttered his own remark cheerily, grateful to be leaving despite the fact that he had not touched his food. They　all　followed　his　example　and　rose　as　one　from　the　tatami　and　the　floor　cushions.　Ken　settled　their　debt and made small pleasantries with the inn-keeper.　They　left,　quickly　and　silently　sliding　their　sandals　on　at　the　door　with　long practiced　ease.　To　anyone　who　was　watching,　they　appeared　to　be　a　mid-ranking　group　of　young　samurai, hung over from a night of youthful debauchery.　Anyone　who　came　close　enough　to　discover　the　truth　died before he could speak it. They each picked their swords out from the rack solemnly and fastened them beneath their wakizashis before they wandered out into the bright, cheery autumn morning.

OOOOOOOOOO

A cold　rush　of　air　hit　Ken　full　in　the　face　as　he　stepped　outside.　The　sun,　now　a　bright,　cheerful　yellow　in　a　rare　endless　blue　sky,　failed　to　warm　him.　He　gathered　his haori　closer　to　his　body,　still　discreetly　maintaining　a　solid　grip　on　his wakizashi. Despite the secure weight of his katana hanging back in its proper place, Ken knew if there was trouble he would be able to draw and use a wakizashi that much faster.　His　sharp　vigil　continued　as　he　led　them　through　the　already　busy　streets　of　Edo　towards　the　main　road　that　would　take　them　back　to　the　village　that　lay　a　day　and　a　half　journey's　west. The Kouichirou hidden village.　Home.　His　men　chatted　amiably　behind　him,　laughing　occasionally,　but　Ken's trained　ears　could　hear　the　strain　in　their　voices.　They wanted to get home as much as he did. They　brushed　past　several　gaily dressed　geisha　out　for　a　morning　stroll.　Some　of　them　giggled　and　batted　their　eyes　at　his group　as　they　bowed　a friendly "Good　morning." Ken recognized some of the geisha from their fun in the tea house the previous evening.　His　men　smiled　back　and　bowed　politely,　but　were　not　tempted　to　distraction, despite the recognition.　Ken　felt　a　small　rush　of　pride　in　their ability　to adhere strictly to business when it was necessary, knowing without being told that their leader was on alert.

A　geisha　with　crimson　lips　that　matched　the　brilliant　scarlet　leaves　dancing　around　the　hem　of　her　delicate　autumn　kimono　smiled　at　him　silkily　and　batted　her　eye　lashes　slowly.　Ken　smiled,　and　then　started　as　he　recognized　the　geisha　he　had　been　err... fond of…　the　previous　evening.　He　had　of　course,　been　rather　drunk,　and　his　behavior　had　been　excused　as　such,　but　he　still　could　not　help　the　slight　blush　that　rose　to　his　cheeks. He had, after all, tried to lay in her lap.　She　smiled　knowingly　when　she　saw　him,　and　leaned　forward　seductively.　Her　scent　was　wonderful　and　he　found　himself drowning in it slightly. Here, he thought, was perhaps one of the most dangerous things of all. He wondered vaguely how many men of power and influence, depravity and even insanity had shared their secrets with these women.　Before　he　could　apologize　and　tell　her　he　was　on　his　return　home, and could not afford to be distracted,　however,　she　began　whispering　in　his　ear　behind　the　screen　of　her　finely　painted　silk　fan.　

"Some　elders　should　not　be　respected.　Be　careful　of　the　company　you　keep." Her hand brushed his lightly, and he was surprised to feel a feather-light weight settle into it.　Then　she　was　pulling　away,　and　laughing　gaily　behind　her　fan,　painted blood red,　as　if　she had just　told　a　wonderful　joke.　Ken　felt　the　corresponding　smile　and　laughter　fill　his　face　immediately, and he forced a slightly embarrassed flush to fill his cheeks so as to appear flustered by a non-existent seductive murmuring.　All the while he was wondering　inwardly　as　to　what　she　had　meant.　She　continued　leisurely　on　her　way,　pausing in a slightly odd gesture　to　give　a　bit　more of a respectful　bow　to　Yanagi.　Perhaps in　deference　to　his age. .Ken　watched,　his　inner　sudden　alarm　completely　unrevealed　on　his　face,　as　Yanagi　gave　her　a　hungry,　predatory　look. He glanced discreetly down at his hands. She had given him colored rice. The three hard, colorful seeds seemed to mock him with the message they gave cheerily.

_'Traitor.'_

Oh, shit.　Ken's early morning　hangover　paled　in　comparison　to　the　illness　he　felt　overcome　him　at　the　sight. This had to be wrong. Not Yanagi.　Yanagi　was　a　clansman, his family bound in honor to the village and the Tomo-sama.　He　would　never　do　anything　to　endanger　them.

But would　he?　

Ken　didn't　know. Why the hell did shit like this always happen to him? Was somebody testing him? What if he made the wrong choice? He certainly couldn't accuse Yanagi openly of so severe a crime. If he was innocent, it would embarrass both of them. If he wasn't, he certainly wouldn't admit it. No matter how much the men disliked Yanagi's recent behavior, they would still have difficulty believing such a heavy accusation with no proof.　

Still, the　fact　that　Yanagi　had　been　passed　over　for　the　position　of　　jyonin　began to stand out　in　Ken's　mind.　That　had　been　no　small　dishonor. And Yanagi was not handling the snub very civilly either.　　

Ken's　stomach　was　about　at　his　knees　as　they　continued　walking.　He　fought　hard　to　maintain　an　outwardly　passive　image.　It　was　a　battle　he　almost　lost　when　a　hand　fell　on　his　shoulder quite suddenly　some　time　later.　It　was　all　Ken　could　do　not　to　turn　around　with　his　wakizashi　out　and　ready　for　business.　He muttered a silent prayer of thanks to any deities that were listening when he found that he'd narrowly avoided taking Ryuuta's head off.　Ken's　relief　was　short　lived, however,　as　he　noticed　the　dark　look　on　Ryuuta's　face.　

"Yanagi-san　isn't　with　us.　Takehiro　noticed　he　was　gone　just　as　we　left　town." the youth　said　softly.　Ken　looked　over　Ryuuta's　head　at　the　rest　of　his　group.　He　could　see　that　all　of　his　men　were　on　a　sharp,　uneasy　alert.　　　

" Is something　going　on?　I　saw　they　way Yanagi　san　was　looking　at　you　at　breakfast.　Did　something　happen　that　the　rest　of　us　don't　know　about?"　Ken　turned　to　look　at　Ryuuta.　

" I don't　know　Ryuuta-kun.　If　it　did,　I　know　as　little　about　it　as　all　of　you.　Does　anyone　know　where　he　went　last　night?"　here　Ken　addressed　the　group.　They　all　shook　their　heads　at　him　grimly.　Ken　knew　better　than　to　ask　them　if　they　had　seen　or　heard　anything　significant.　If　such　was　the　case,　he　would　have known　about　it　immediately.　Ryuuta　shifted　uneasily　from　foot　to　foot.　　

"What　should　we　do?"　he　asked　softly.　What　indeed? Yanagi's　　character　was　becoming　more　and　more　suspicious　in　Ken's　mind. It looked as if his men were feeling the same way. Although that could also be the hangover clinging to their faces. Most of them looked slightly ill still.　He　couldn't　help　but　wonder　if　this　was　a　ruse　to　lure　them　back　into　the　crowded　streets　of　town　where　danger　could　be　less　easily　spotted.　However,　if　they　pressed　on　without　the　man,　Yanagi's　　pronounced　absence　could　be　a　sign　of　a　later　ambush;　one　in　which　　Yanagi　would　not　be　around　to　be　wounded　or　killed.　Finally,　Ken　came　to　a　decision.　He　turned　and　motioned　to　them　to　gather　closely.

"It seems to me that trouble is stirring.　We're　going　to　press　on　as　quickly　as　we　can.　We　must　get back to the village and inform Tomo-sama of what's happened.　He　will　decide　from　there　what the best course of action will be."　He murmured softly, keeping the sound of his voice within only his men's hearing. His hand clenched reflexively around the grains of rice in his palm. _'Traitor.' _whispered somewhere in the back of his mind, like the smoke sliding from a pipe.　The　others　nodded　in　a　stern　yet　grim　agreement.　Ken nodded in return. "Good. Keep a sharp watch boys. Expect anything, since we don't know for sure. Don't leave the group for any reason." he intoned sternly.　They　all　nodded　again　and　moved　apart,　some pausing to have a drink or snack, some simply resting on the grass, relaxing beneath the mid-day sun. Ken laughed at Takeshi and Ryuuta's heated bickering, the old man and the youthful boy. It was a laugh that made him feel cold inside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was noon when they stopped again. It seemed to Ken that the after-effects of their previous evening's drinking bout was wearing thin on his men. It was slightly puzzling in the face of all the food they'd eaten. Food usually made him feel better after a hang over. Here it seemed to have made his men worse. Ken studied the position of the sun in the sky and squinted at the road ahead of them. Another fifteen minutes would take them into the shade of the woods. This was a riskier part of the journey Ken had been fearing since Yanagi's marked absence. The woods were an easy place for a waiting ambush to hide, even as it hid his own group from view. It would be an ideal place for attack. It was also the furthest point between villages, in which they were an equally far distance from civilization both behind and ahead of them. If they made it through the woods unscathed, they would be nearly home, and fairly safe from another ambush so close to their own hidden village.

_'Unless they've already attacked the village'._ a voice in his mind whispered in a hiss. Ken refused to consider the possibility. He didn't even know for sure if they were in any danger, let alone their entire village. Once they had adequately rested, they began moving on at a slower pace than they had taken earlier that morning, and Ken's anxiety seemed to be reaching its apex. He couldn't hide it even if he wanted to now. Ryuuta stayed close to his side, his eyes constantly darting around them, especially around Ken, in search of any sudden or hidden threats. Takeshi stayed close to Ryuuta for the same reasons, although it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was looking out more for the younger boy's safety than Ken's.

They reached the cool, dark shade of the woods without incident, and continued walking, all on alert. Although Ken was beginning to notice a marked difference in his men. Whatever illness had claimed them this morning seemed to have increased dramatically, and even Takeshi was looking a bit harried and pale.

It was ten minutes later when the first man dropped.

Ken spun around, this time with his katana out and at the ready before he could even think to perform the action, everyone else having followed suit. He could hear Takeshi's heavy, labored breathing beside him, and Ryuuta's fainter, more controlled breathing on his right. Nothing moved. Not a sound could be heard. Everything was peaceful and calm.

Koji lay in the center of the road, face to the side, eyes open in death, lips slightly parted. His skin had become grey in a matter of seconds, horrible dark bruises beneath his eyes. There were no weapons protruding from his body, nor any wounds to speak of, but Ken already knew that there had been no attack. Not from the woods anyway. His sword slid back into its sheath with a sickening hiss as Ken rushed forward to Koji's side.

Dead.

But Ken had already known that as well. He turned slowly to look at the faces of his men; pale, drawn faces, hollowed eyes, and dry, cracked lips. They were dying. They were all dying slowly. Someone had poisoned them.

The breath seemed to stop in his throat as if all the air in his body was trying to get out at once. "Everyone, sit down, and drink some water. It's time for a rest." he said slowly, surprising even himself at the calm strength in his voice. No one spoke. They simply sat resting, in shock. One or two sat near Koji, eyes glassy with ill-contained, unshed tears. Ken would not allow himself the tears yet. He had failed. Utterly and miserably. But he would do what he could for his men. "Can anyone guess what kind of poison it is?" he asked slowly.

" Don't think there's anything we can do boss. S'no good…Even if we did know, it's too late. By the time we figure it out and try to get an antidote, we'll probably be dead if Koji-kun over there is any sign." the lightness in Jiro's voice was so strained it made Ken feel even sicker. He turned to look at the man, unable to hide the pain in his eyes. He crouched down to their level and looked into their faces, opening his mouth to say something only to have nothing come out. It was like a nightmare, and Ken kept hoping to wake up safe at home in bed. Anywhere but here, looking into the faces of death; faces that had followed him so willingly and trustingly. Tears burned the corners of his eyes and his throat swelled painfully, and still, no words would come. How could he say anything? They were dying because of him. Because of his stupidity, they were dying. Ken suddenly wished fervently that he'd been the only one to eat breakfast that morning. He'd have deserved it.

"Will you knock it the fuck off!? The two of you. S'not like any of us saw it coming. We ain't fortune-tellers, or seers, or any other kind of those nut-jobs. We're just men. Hung over men. We didn't think about what we were doing either. Don't flatter yourself by thinking you're the only man who can think for himself here." Takeshi's rough, rasping voice was somehow full of strength, and the hand that thumped Ken companionably on the back nearly toppled him forward the rest of the way to the ground. He choked and righted himself, turning to give a heated denial to Takeshi's attempt to lighten the burden of his own faults, but the fire burning in Takeshi's eyes brooked no argument. Ryuuta made a soft, strangled sound from somewhere behind him.

"You listen to _me_, Hidaka. I don't give a shit what anyone says, or tells you to do. This is the request of a dying man. You find the sonofabitch who did this, and you fucking make him _wish_ for death, clear? You too boy." Takeshi nodded at Ryuuta over Ken's shoulder. " You find him, and you get some damn answers. Find out who that pansy Yanagi's workin' for, and fucking kill him too. _Nobody_ crosses the Kouichirou clan and _lives_. " he growled. But the growl was weak, and the fire in his eyes was fading. "Nobody…"he finished, and leaned back, his face drained and pale. There were tears moving slowly down Ken's cheeks, but he didn't feel them as he took in the nods of approval from the rest of his men.

"Make them pay Hidaka-sama. Show them that we aren't weak. Show them that they can't get away with betrayal." someone else called out weakly. Whoever it was, Ken guessed maybe Jiro, ended in a fit of dry, hacking coughs. There was a soft mummur as the sound died away.

" I want Yanagi's head on a pike right in front of my fucking grave, you hear me Hidaka? I'll haunt your ass into eternity until it happens." Takeshi spat. Ken could only nod for several long seconds.

"A-aa. I'll bring it, Takeshi." he managed hoarsely.

"Hidaka-sama?" another, weak voice called. Ken turned to face a younger man, one only slightly older than Ryuuta's youthful 15 years.

"Aa, Chihiro-kun." He replied, rising and crouching by the younger man's side. Judging by his pallor and labored breathing, he would not be alive much longer. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead as he struggled to speak. Ken leaned forward to spare him a bit of the effort.

"When we d..ie…, you m-must…leave us h-here…" Ken frowned.

"No, Chihiro. Don't you want to be buried honorably? You died serving Kouichirou-sama and your brothers in arms." Chihiro chuckled weakly.

"Later, Ken-sama. If to…f-find….us, they will know…..for certain….that you have survived…if we are gone…and that….is dangerous….we will slow…your journey….find back with more men….l-live t-to seek…..revenge….and bury us…honorably…" Chihiro was choking now, handsome face twisted and grey with the pain. Saliva oozed from one corner of his mouth. Ken shook his head and pressed his fingers against Chihiro's blue lips gently.

" Don't worry, I will. I wasn't going to try and bury you now. I'm not _that_ hard-headed." he assured, the quavering of his voice sapping the humor from the remark. Several more nods of approval. When Ken looked back at Chihiro, his eyes stared emptily at some point through Ken's chest. Ken sighed and closed the youth's eyes with a shaking hand. He made a small, choking sound in the back of his throat, and it sounded like a gun-shot in the silence.

"You still here Hidaka?!....Thought I told you to get the fuck out….find that bastard Yanagi…the hell are you doing waiting around here for us to die for…? Won't do us no good, and it ain't gonna make you feel better…so take the kid and get the hell back to the village….I'll handle things from here…" and Takeshi was standing, grunting, and then swaying unsteadily. Ryuuta was at his side in an instant.

"What the fuck is the matter with you old man!? Sit down before you fall down!" Ryuuta's voice was laced with panic. Ken knew Takeshi could not die in Ryuuta's presence, even though that was the most honorable thing Ryuuta could do for Takeshi. Waiting for his men to die was an honor that Ken wanted desperately to give them. He walked over quickly.

"Sit down, idiot." He groused roughly. Takeshi glared at him.

"Not until you leave." his chin shot out defiantly, and some of the fire had lit in his eyes again. Ken met him evenly, stare for stare.

"I will give my men the honor of witnessing their death in my service, and in the service of Kouichirou-sama." he replied firmly, although the affection in his voice softened the edge a bit.

"Dammit Ken!! You don't have time for this shit! Get the hell out of here before they come down and kill you!! You wanna end up dead like an idiot!? The biggest gods-dammned honor that you're gonna give us is the death of that bastard traitor. Bury us later! I don't fucking want you here wasting your time because protocol says you gotta stay and watch us die! Fuck that! GET OUT OF HERE!!" Takeshi roared, nearly falling into Ken's face as he lost his balance and instead winding up with his nose inches from Ken's own.

Ken stared into those eyes; fierce, fiery eyes, the eyes of every warrior of legend that Ken had heard as a boy. Eyes that flashed lethally at him now, daring Ken to disobey, daring Ken to defy the man who'd stood up to him and ordered him to do what was right. He was startled from the intensity by the light weight of Ryuuta's hand settling warmly into his shoulder.

"Hidaka-sama. Let's go."

Ryuuta's voice was strong and firm, and Ken turned to look at him. He was crying as well, silent tears that coursed down his cheeks, his eyes full of a pained yet determined spark. "Pops here can take care of this. And we're gonna go take care of the rest. We have to. They're asking us to." Ken looked back to Takeshi and then nodded slowly. He looked over the faces of his men one last, final time; committing their, proud, loving faces to his memory as they stared at him with stoic acceptance and love. Several of them nodded at him, and he nodded in return.

"We're leaving. We will not fail you." And then he turned and ran into the forest and away from the easy detection of the road, not once looking back. Ryuuta was at his side the whole way.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Wow, sorry about all the changes, but for some reason, my Japanese system seems to keep screwing all my documents up a bit. That or can't seem to process it. In any case, combined the Author's note and Chapter one because the Chapter menu was freaking out on me... hope this works....

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	2. The End of the Beginning

Holy fast chapter updates batman!!! Here's chapter two!!

Ok, so a couple things. Thanks if you've reviewed already.It really helps me out. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. I was looking over the story online, and it looks rather unasthetic. Unfortunatley, I am working on a Japanese computer system, and it seems to be doing funny things to regular word documents. (I.e. making font large and bold, taking out paragraph indents, and indeed paragraphs altogether, as well as white space. ) Hopefully when I get e-mail at my apartment my english-based system will even things out. In the mean time, please bear with me. I'm sorry if the story gets confusing or redundant. Let me know if there's any problems!!

Also, I noticed that the chapter menu doesn't show up in the Author's Note. Sorry about that, not sure how to fix it. I will as soon as I know how. In the mean time, err...well if you're here, you obviously know how to get at the other chapters. Right. Sorry. Anyway, enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: Weiss :: Not mine. One of the few equations I do understand...

BTW, the vocabulary of today's chapter is:

_Danna:_ the 'boyfriend' of a geisha. If you can call it that. Basically it's a guy who's very rich, or the geisha likes (often both...) who the geisha will see on a more intimate basis. However, a geisha will only choose one danna at a time, and it is usually long term I beleive.

_Koto:_ The Japanese Harp. A long, narrow, stringedinstrument that sits on the floor. Er....a more telling description later? Gomen ne.

_Shamisen:_ Sort of like a banjo. Another traditional Japanese intrument. Umm....right...better description later....maybe a link or something.

_Washi:_ If a papered sliding window is a _shoji_, then a papered sliding door is a _washi. _They're the same with the exception, of course, that one is a window and one a door.

_Maiko:_ A geisha who is in training. Above the position as apprentice. As far as I know, I beleive they wear colorful kimono and different accessories to distinguish them from full-fledged geisha. This is for several reasons that are really going to take too much space to list.

_Cultural Notes: _Right. So in this chapter, we have a geisha scene in a tea house, that isn't really a cultural norm. I hadn't really wanted to write a story before the story, but I suppose this is going to be necessary.

As I understand it, Geisha had anywhere from one to several tea houses they frequent regularly, in order to pick up clientelle. If the geisha is popular, or talented, (among other reasons...) a tea house will often call her to return frequently to entertain parties with other geisha, or at the requests of clients. A geisha books her scheduel according to which tea houses are more popular or prestigious. This of course isn't always the case, but most usually it is.

Here, Manx is refered to by her real name. It isn't really a spoiler since as far as I can tell they never say it in the anime. Her name is Kitada. (In case you didn't know, it's Kitada Hanae). She is acting as the 'older sister' to the younger , training geisha. This relationship is fascinating, and I could write a whole story just on that, so let me just say that it's the younger sister's job to respect her 'Onee-sama' (respectfully: 'older-sister'), and follow her example, just as it is the older sister's job to watch out for, teach, and protect her younger sister. This costs the older geisha a lot of time, often money and accessories, and so the younger sister is often considered to be indebited to the older. Often, the okiya (sort of like the geisha's home base and place of residence)will pay the older sister to train the younger.

Also, the "receiving room" here refers to the large tatami room that a lord receives his guests in. (You know, with the roll-up screen made of reeds?) I have no idea what to call it. So academic, ne?

And now on with it....

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 2**

"**_Winter, snowflakes fall,_**

_**Grass leaves lay down to sleep and**_

**_disappear from sight"_**

-_Basho_

The smoke in the room was thick and suffocating in the darkness. A single, guttering candle cast feeble light across a low, narrow table, littered with sake bottles, saucers, and several half-finished platters featuring various seafood and vegetable delicacies. A stern, mature looking geisha robed in a steel-grey kimono that seemed to sap the vitality from her features sat silently to one side. She carefully attended to any of the room's occupants before they had even to call for her. She did not sing. Nor did she play the _koto_ or the _shamisen_. She did not smile and chatter. She did not flirt. They did not want her to. Beside her, glaringly out of place in a colorful apprentice's kimono of varying shades of lavender, sat a frightened looking young girl, obviously a _maiko_, and assistant to the older geisha. She did not smile either. She simply sat and waited for instructions from the older woman, and tried very hard not to listen to the conversation taking place across the small table. It set the butterflies in her stomach to stirring madly.

The owner of the tea shop had told Sakura and Kitada that the party they had been hired to entertain did not want common entertainment. They were told that the pay would be very good, with even something for Sakura, the maiko, provided they could keep their mouths shut and assure that the guests did not want for food or drink, ever, during the course of the night. Though it seemed to Sakura that what the party wanted was a serving woman, Kitada Onee-san had taken the job without comment, meaning that Sakura also had to take it as well. When they returned later in the evening to entertain, Kitada Onee-san had worn the drabbest, most colorless kimono she could find, and had chosen the simplest kimono she could find for Sakura. Kitada Onee-san had also requested a simple _obi_, and it was made of a darker shade of grey than the rest of the kimono, matching the darker grey around the hem. The obi-dresser did not tie it into a turtle or a butterfly, or even a bow. Instead, he tied it the simple, traditional way. It made her Onee-san look ldull and humorless, like a memorial statue in the park. She hardly even put any _kanazashi_ in her hair. It had made Sakura nervous.

And now here she was, sitting in silence in this dark room, tobacco smoke so thick in the air she could hardly breathe. A slight hiss sounded beside her and the brilliant orange light of an ember burning flared for a moment, illuminating a fierce, stern face, framed by hair the color of Kitada-Onee-san's kimono. Sakura thought it made the man look like a demon as she caught a glimpse of intense, boring eyes. Fortunately, they studied the figure across the table from her and not her own form. Sakura was not sure what she would do if she ever found herself beneath that gaze.

Reiji Takatori exhaled a mouth full of pipe smoke and chuckled humorlously. The sound seemed to be swallowed by the darkness.

"Saaa, what news do you have for me?" he rumbled. The slight form across the table from him shifted slightly, and a pair of fine black chopsticks tiped with red flashed into the candlight to claim a small piece of sashimi before they disappeared again.

"Everything is ready, as promised. The men sent out to the city have been killed. My contact found them on the road lying dead in the dirt like dogs, as they rightfully should be for defying the Shogunate. The village is as yet unawares. The time to strike them is now, before the news of their clansmen's death reaches them and they can prepare for an attack." The man's nasal voice seemed to seek out Sakura's spine and run tremors through it.

"Good. My men are waiting at the _Shouenso_ Inn. They're expecting you. Ride out with them immediately, and continue as planned. I will find you after you have finished." The last sentence seemed to hang in the air as threat. The man with the nasal voice nodded and rose to depart immediately. Kitada-Onee-san nodded to Sakura discreetly, letting her know that Sakura would be the one to show the man out of the room. Sakura obediently rose and strode to the entryway with as much grace as she could manage while holding her kimono up from the floor. She knelt on the tatami just inside the entry way and carefully pulled out the man's slippers, arranging them so he could slide into them easily. When he was ready, she slid the _washi_ open and bowed low, murmuring a very formal "Thank you very much, good-bye." He barely nodded in her direction, repling with a hasty "Thanks, Goodnight." Before hurrying down the hall towards the door. Sakura slid the washi closed after him and returned to her place by Kitada-Onee-san. The demon-man with the pipe was speaking again; his voice a low, angry rumble that sounded more like a dragon than a man's voice to Sakura.

"Follow him, and bring him back to me when this is over. I expect a full report of the events." At this, the four shadows that had remained motionless against the wall stirred themselves and rose silently to leave. This time both Sakura and Kitada-Onee-san saw their guests out. A foreigner with hair the color of a summer bonfire leered at her suggestively as he left, but seemed too busy to try anything else. For this Sakura was grateful as she slid the washi shut once more.

"I no longer have need of your services. Thank you for your time this evening." The demon man rumbled once more, and Sakura felt relief flood her like a tidal wave. She and Kitada-Onee-san bowed humbly and said their goodbyes and thank yous before showing themselves out. Sakura never wanted to do anything like that again. Judging by the look on Onee-san's face, neither did she. Suddenly, she stopped and put a hand on Sakura's shoulder. When Sakura looked up in response, Onee-san's eyes bored deeply into hers for a moment before she spoke softly.

"Sakura. This is the way of the Geisha. We must always do our best to make the guests happy and contented, and we must never speak openly of what our guests say or do. We must bear our burdens in silence. You understand this, don't you?" Kitada-Onee-san's voice was soft and melodious once more. Sakura nodded mutely. "Good. We will not speak of this night again, not to anyone. It is not safe to speak of even if you disguise the names or do not use names at all." Sakura nodded again, and Onee-san said nothing else as they continued towards the front hall. On the way there, they passed a tall, handsome young man with brown hair that caressed his shoulders and laughing green eyes. He bowed to them formally and then strode gracefully down the hall to the place Sakura and Kitada-Onee-san had just left. Sakura looked after him curiously, and felt herself blush at the memory of his smiling face. Kitada-Onee-san smilied knowingly.

"One day, Sakura-chan, if you become a good geisha, a man like that will become your _danna_. And you will be a very happy woman indeed." Sakura blushed deeper at the comment and Kitada-Onee-san laughed merrily, the sound like the beautiful singing bowls in the temples.

They went home early that night, and did not go out again. Kitada-Onee-san was busy entertaining a gentleman guest in her room. Sakura guessed, as bright, clear laughter drifted to her ears, that it was a man Onee-san liked very much.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ken was tired. Tired beyond reason. Normally, the trip back to the village would have taken a day's time at most. However, they did not travel on a well-worn road that carried straight from one place to the next. The forests were dense and dark, and they had to make their way slowly to be assured that they could not be traced. By that evening, they still had not reached the village, and Ken estimated at least another day's travel before they would. They had spent the night in the trees, taking shifts to watch for enemy approach. However, when the moon disappeared over the horizon, Ken did not bother to wake Ryuuta. The youth needed his sleep more than Ken did. And Ken could not sleep with the images of his men's dying faces burned into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes they seemed to float before him, eyes full of devotion and acceptance that Ken knew he didn't deserve. He was numb and felt dead. He could only imagine what would happen when he returned home, bearing the news to the village that he had lost nearly all of their most trusted warriors over his own stupidity. This of course played into the assumption that there would be a village to return to. His body filled with dread that they were already too late. He could do nothing to assuage the voice that assured him something horrible had happened in the village already. It had, after all, been right the first time he'd ignored it.

The next morning they traveled with the light of the sun, up at dawn and making their way through the dense undergrowth once again. There had been a brief incident with a wild boar, after which Ken had insisted that they rest beside a small stream and take a soak to ease their sore muscles. They caught several small fish which Ryuuta prepared over a small fire and they ate in silence. When they finished, they cleared the small camp and eradicated any of the traces they'd left behind and traveled quickly once more. Ken wanted to be at the village before nightfall. At this point, it was the best they could hope for.

They should have arrived by sunset.

And they would have, if there had been a village to arrive to.

Ken stared in horror at the sight of smoldering, wrecked foundations, skeletons of the proud houses they had once been. The slight from the setting sun bathed them in red, and cast long, black shadows against the sinister forms of dead, charred, clansmen. Ken couldn't even recognize their faces. Their forms lay scattered about as if knocked aside by the careless hand of a child, twisted and stiff in impossible positions of agony. The hiss of cooling wood after a fire filled his ears, and he was vaguely aware of Ryuuta being violently ill somewhere behind him. He was slowly beginning to recognize the members of the Kouichirou clan's front guard; the men who stood watch at the entrance to the village. The gate itself, once a proud, tall structure protecting the village was now nothing more than two charred stumps on either side of what had once been the entrance to the main village road. In the center of the worn dirt path was the hammered bronze plaque that had adorned the center beam. It was blackened with soot and slightly deformed.

He wasn't even inside the gate and already he wanted to die. The sound of Ryuuta sobbing, however, prevented him from sinking to his knees. He found strength in himself to turn and comfort Ryuuta, to suggest that they search for survivors; bury the dead. Ryuuta nodded, face wet with tears, and together they leaned on each other as they made their way into the village. Once inside, Ken forced Ryuuta off of him and drew a small dagger and several _shuriken_, holding them at ready, his whole body tensed as if he could be met with an army of demons at any moment. It was not far from what he expected. Anyone who could destroy an entire ninja village had to posses some kind of legendary skill. Even if he had an army at his back. Ryuuta, taking his example from Ken, drew his three-jointed staff and held it at ready.

"Ryuuta, stay close. Let's stick together and find Tomo-sama first, all right?"

"Got it." The response was tense with anticipation, and Ken was relieved to note it held none of the hesitance of a man on the verge of a mental breakdown. They had to be strong for each other. Strong enough to carry out the revenge for the entire clan now. They could grieve later, when they had time to bury the dead and then set things straight. Slowly, Ken methodically made his way through the long shadows cast by the blood red sun towards the small castle in the distance. It rested innocently on the hillside, red in the setting sun, no sign of charring or damage apparent in the late evening light. He moved mechanically, carefully, skill imprinted on his mind from the time of his boyhood taking hold of his body and moving it without Ken having to make much effort to control it. He did not want to enter the castle. He did not want to know what lay behind the white walls and flawless gardens. He was afraid of finding the truth. Ryuuta, however, was more afraid of the ominous ways the shadows were shifting around them as they passed. He felt eyes upon his neck, but when he turned to look, only death remained in the noxious, heavy air.

Ken approached the large wooden doors and shoved at them unceremoniously with his shoulder. There was no point in trying to sneak in. They may as well draw their enemies out if they were around. The doorsgave wayeasily beneath his weight, and Ken peered into the shadows beyond anxiously for any signs of an attack. When nothing moved, he entered cautiously, Ryuuta's back to his own as the youth assured no one came at them from behind undetected. Once inside, Ken shoved the doors shut. At least if anyone tried to come in the front he'd hear it.

They performed a cursory search in the half-darkness of late sunset of the ground floor and the second floor. That everything was intact and undamaged charged both Ken and Ryuuta's nervousness almost beyond bearing. Only the extremely valuable things seemed to be missing. Ken was surprised to note that even some of the very old armors had been carted off. He knew without searching that the kimonos were probably gone as well. They searched the third floor, and still found no sign of any royalty. Only dead servants littered the halls, some armed, some not. Ken frowned.

"Perhaps we should check the receiving room downstairs?" Ryuuta whispered softly. Ken nodded and they padded softly down the way they had come, pausing only to give a quick search here or there of a room with a closed door. Five minutes later saw them standing outside the receiving hall, a strange, slight, creaking noise coming from behind the reed curtain. Taking a deep breath, Ken and Ryuuta stood on either side of the reed curtain and rolled it up, letting themselves within. They let it back down before turning to examine the room. Ken immediately wished he hadn't.

In the center of the room, swaying softly back and forth in a slight breeze from the washi open on the gardens, was the Tomo-sama. He dangled from a beam, eyes bulging, mouth open in a silent scream. Ken could not help the involuntary gasp that burst from his chest. Jusdging by the bloated fingers and rubbery-looking skin, Ken would have guessed that he had been dead for at perhaps twenty-four hours. Ryuuta's sudden cry of distress had him turning to regard the place where Tomo-sama usually sat. The boy was kneeling beside a slumped form on the tatami, rocking back and forth slightly. Ken crept closer.

"Ryuuta-kun, what is it?" he asked softly.

"T-T-Tomo-sama's wife….K-Ken-san, she looks so happy. She knew. She knew. She trusted the person who did this. Look at her face." The youth murmured, voice quavering. "Gods, look at her face. We were set up. We were betrayed. Our own clansmen. How could you do such a thing to your own clansmen?" It sounded to Ken like Ryuuta was going to unravel shortly. He grabbed the youth roughly by the shoulders, and turned him so that he was looking Ken in the eyes, forcing him to look away from the form lying on the floor. He spoke in low, even tones, careful to sound calm yet stern.

"Ryuuta, listen to me. We have to hold on. We have to avenge them. We can't fall apart now, all we have is each other. We can grieve later, when we're safe. Stay with me, do you understand? Now pay attention. Underneath Tomo-sama's seat, there is a loose square of tatami, that looks like a bad patch-up job. I want you to find it and lift it. Open the door underneath, and bring whatever is inside it to me. Do you understand?" Ryuuta nodded.

"Ken-sama. You're so strong. Thank you. I'll look for it." He whispered, sliping away towards the back-center of the room. Ken crept closer to the form slumped in the shadows and lit a nearby candle.

Kouichirou Shiori's face was serene, tinged slightly with the warm welcome of an unexpected delight. Beneath it a ribbon of red bled from one side of her neck to the other, seeping into the front of her kimono and making a small puddle of congealed liquid beneath her head. Ryuuta was right. Not only was this a person whom Shiori-sama had obviously knew and trusted, but it was also somebody whom she had held affection for. Ken had seen that look directed at himself often enough. He forced the memories away with a pang that roiled from his stomach to his throat and back again. He replaced the sorrow with rage, rage at whoever had abused such innocent, loving trust. Rage at whoever could destroy the one thing they were supposed to protect and swear loyalty to above all else. Ken swamped himself with the rage because it made him feel strong, and gave him the focus to make the next move.

Ryuuta approached suddenly from the shadows, a confused, uneasy look on his face.

"Ken-sama, there was nothing. I followed your instructions exactly, but the space behind the door was empty. What were you looking for?" Ken could feel his rage build as his thoughts were cemented with solid evidence.

" The emergency funds for this village. Only Tomo-sama and his wife, their son Kase, and the five jyonins know about its location." He growled low.

"Ken-sama—where do you think Kase-sama is?" Ken gave that thought careful consideration.

" I don't know. Let's try to find him. We'll check the grounds and the village again. Grab a torch just in case. Do you have flint?"

"Yeah, I've got a bunch."

"Good. Keep it in a safe place. And stay close. Don't loose me. Let's go."

They left the room behind, left the castle, and walked out into the rose and cornflower of twilight. The first few stars were twinkling in the sky. On the horizon, a pale moon was just rising, nearly invisible in the dim sky.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sometime later, Ken looked up, taking note of his surroundings as he wiped the sweat from his brow. A long, black trail of soot was left streaking across his forehead after. The moon, fortunately, was nearly full that night, and so he and Ryuuta had been able to see once the last light of the sun had burned away. They had worked slowly and methodically; painfully. Neither had made a move to seek out their families. It was decided without speaking by both that any relatives they had were probably scattered out on the battlefield of the main road.

Ken's back ached. His chest hurt, and his throat felt as if it had nearly swelled shut against the overwhelming odor of charred wood and flesh mingling with the coppery scent of clotted blood. He wiped his hands on his pants; his haori and gi long since having been removed despite the chill autumn evening. His breath clouded and steamed in the air like smoke as he cast his eyes around him. It was at that moment that he realized he couldn't see Ryuuta. Anywhere. Ken's chest seized tight in a sudden panic.

"Ryuuta-kun?"

Silence.

"Oi! Ryuuta!!"

Nothing.

"RYUUTA!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

A few late autumn crickets paused briefly in their night song at the desperate bellow, but detecting no danger, they continued peacefully. And there was no other sound to be heard. No voice, no movement, everything was still. Ken was starting to hate the stillness, the stupid false peace. Every time it was there, he lost something else precious to him. Ken didn't think he would survive loosing anything else. A sudden noise in the shadows had him running for cover before cautiously making his way the source of the sound. Nothing. He found nothing. Another foundation had lost a charred, ashy beam. Ken sighed, and assuring himself of having his weapons tucked safely and readily into his hakama, he slipped off silently in search of Ryuuta

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Somehow, as they had worked, Ryuuta had gotten separated from Ken. He stared now, somewhat frightened, at the twisting, fluid shadows around him in the pressing silence, wondering where the hell he was and how he had wound up there without realizing. He supposed, when you were digging for bodies and then burying the dead, especially on a battle field of sorts, that it was a very easy thing to do. However, this did not stop Ryuuta for berating himself for leaving Ken-sama's side. Ken needed him now more than ever. Ryuuta was the only one left to protect him and look out for him. Ken was of the highest rank, and the one responsible for somehow putting things back together and carrying on the clan name. Somehow. And Ryuuta was going to do all he could to help him. And anyways, even if Ken _wasn't_ high ranking or the last of their clan, Ryuuta loved Ken too much to see anything happen to him. Ken was always so strong, so good-spirited. Ryuuta wanted to _be_ Ken. He certainly didn't want to loose him because of his own stupidity.

Ryuuta was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Ken's voice bellowing in the distance. Gods; how far had he wandered?! Picking himself up out of the rubble he was in, he sped off in the direction of Ken's voice, hoping to find him and set him at ease. Ken was not going to be happy with him for wandering off alone like that. He was half-way there when he ran past a smoldering heap that had once been his house. Ryuuta stopped, and stared.

The entire thing had collapsed in on itself, and was unrecognizable as anything except the remains of a bonfire. Thin wisps of smoke curled innocently from places in the center of the pile and floated heavenward, like souls of the departed. Ryuuta dropped to his knees, his face twisted with grief. He had known his family was probably dead. He had known. He had expected it. But to see the reality in front of his face; to see it with his own eyes; horrible and innocent all at once. Dark and charred and jagged in the moonlight, falling all over itself in a heap of useless rubble. Ryuuta forgot about Ken for a moment. Forgot about everything except the smoke and the ashes, and the horrible, hideous pile of rubble. He sank to his knees. And started to sob. In this moment, there was no one to be strong for. No one to pretend for. And even if there had been, Ryuuta would never have been able to stop himself from crying like a baby. He felt so ashamed, and it only made him cry harder. He wondered then what Ken would do when he found his house; his family. Would Ken cry? Probably not. Ryuuta's eyes widened in realization suddenly, and he shot to his feet. _Ken-sama_! He had almost forgotten about Ken-sama! Ryuuta didn't even waste the time berating himself; he would do it later when he and Ken were together and safe. He whirled around towards the direction he was heading, only to come face to face with four shadows standing in his path on the narrow road. Ryuuta's hand flew to his shuriken, and he pulled out four, waiting for the right moment to strike.

" Ja, little one. Like what we've done with the place?" an arrogant, nasal voice intoned. Ryuuta grit his teeth in rage and charged forward with the headstrong confidence of youth—before feinting and diving into the cover of the shadows. He found himself dragged up by the collar, however, and hauled in to meet an all-too familiar face.

"See you haven't learned much, brat."

And Ryuuta knew then he was in serious trouble.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

dun Dun DUN...... ::cough:: I mean, oh dear, sorry to leave you hanging like that. I'm afraid it was the best break I could find. ::sunny smile:: more to follow, I promise. Yohji coming in Chapter 3!!! (Sorry, you've gotta get through 2B first...) And yes, Ken IS wearing no shirt. And if you've ever seen (or worn) Hakamas, you would know that this means the area from hip to mid-thigh along his sides are also exposed!! :::drools::: .

Any and all comments are welcome, just please don't flame me. I embrace criticism with open arms so long as it's polite, with taste, and constructive. Bashing or nit-picking people's writing is rude and only makes the writer feel worse about their work, which then probably leads to a decline in confidence, which leads to a decline in writing ability which leads to.... I'm dizzy. Anyway, you get the idea....

And does anyone, ANYONE know how to get the damn white space and paragraph indents to stay!?!?!?!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	3. Hair of Red

Hey there! Are you still with me?? Excellent! Thanks so much, I'm really thrilled. If you've hung out for this long, know that Yohji will be up in the next chapter!! Finally! Are you excited?? I know I am...Ok, so let's move right along here. No notes really. Thanks for all your reviews and comments. They make my day!! :) If updates start lagging, I apologize. I do have to work. School visits and all. Maybe someday I'll be a famous author who lives like a hermit in a remote cabin in Maine...err...anyway, on with the show...

BTW, If I haven't replied to your reviews, I'm terribly sorry, but I'm very new at this whole thing. I promise to do it as soon a I manage. If your email has an undersore in it though, I'm sorry, but I can't type those on my Japanese computer. I don't know how...::looks embarassed::

Disclaimer : Weiss isn't mine. If I had half that brilliance and creativity, I'd make my own series with better animation and plot. I mean....::cough:: Not that I don't love the boys. I just wish the show was half as good as the comic. ::sigh::

Oh yeah....lots of....not good stuff in this chapter. Not for the faint of heart, or those who may cry easily. I'm so mean mean mean.....you have been warned and I will not be blamed (if your wild strawberry cannot be tamed ! .)

_A Breif Cultural Note:_ Traditional Japanese houses used to have a main room, in the center of which was a fire, or charcoal pit(perhaps called a _hibachi_--and NO it is not the same as the Japanese restaruants. TheJapanese don't even really like that style of restaurant really, and it certainly isn't traditional...although I love it....)used for cooking and whatever warmth and light it gave off. Which trust me, wasn't much...

:::wanders off singing 'Found a Peanut Last Night':::

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

****

Chapter 2B

_"In seasonal rain_

_Along a nameless river_

_Fear too has no name."_

_-Buson_

_**Edo**_

Ken had been wandering around in the silence and the dark for what felt like hours. Reasonably, and judging by the position of the moon, it had been a half hour at most. He still hadn't seen any sign of Ryuuta. At all.

It didn't help that his feet had led him to be standing outside of his own house now, staring at gaping black holes where windows had once been. He should be looking for Ryuuta. Ryuuta wasn't in his house. But his family might be. Ken didn't want to go in. But that didn't stop his feet from sliding him forward, into the doorway. He swallowed the greeting that rushed into his throat back down into his stomach. It was pointless now. He refused to look at the black walls, or the soot-stained floors. He didn't take off his shoes. He tried to pretend it was someone else's house. It wasn't much better, but it helped some. He couldn't see much anyway; there wasn't enough light. The smell was horrible though. Somehow even worse than the smells he had been working in before.

He hadn't far to go before he tripped over the first body. And the nightmare just kept getting worse and worse. He stumbled down the hall into the main room and just stopped. A thin wisp of smoke from the small charcoal pit in the center of the room was climbing towards a large hole in the ceiling slowly. It was all he could see at first. The only natural smoke in the room. Everything seemed to focus in slowly, as if he were underwater...

And then Ken screamed. It rattled the walls and shook the floors. It echoed throughout the dead, smoldering village and sent a small flock of night-birds scattering from the castle hillside. It seemed to fill everywhere. And it didn't stop. Ken screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Six figures paused from their struggles and looked up at the night-sky as a tortured scream filled the air.

"Ken-sama." Ryuuta murmured weakly. He turned sharply on the men surrounding him. "What the fuck did you do to him you bastards!?" he yelled, his knees feeling as if they had turned to water. The sound of Ken's scream had somehow taken hold of his muscles and turned them into a jelly. The intimidation factor of the demand was slightly marred by the blood he coughed up afterwards.

"Us? Nothing." That same, damn nasal voice that Ryuuta had learned very quickly to hate with a passion.

"I bet he found his house. He must have liked the present we left him. God is crying right now." another voice giggled maniacally in strangely accented Japanese.

"I see you did a thorough job." This voice was laced with disgusted sarcasm. Ryuuta hated that voice most of all. The voice of betrayal. Ryuuta wouldn't even dare think his name anymore. That would be acknowledging him as human. And he obviously wasn't. He glared bloody murder from his crouch in the center of all of them.

"Hey, don't say something like 'have fun' and expect us not to take you up on it." The nasal one again.

A snort from somewhere behind him.

"Well, let's finish up here so we can take care of Hidaka."

"Ahh, you have no vision. Why do you want to kill these guys in such a boring way? Jeez. Be creative."

"You have another brilliant idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Heir leader, if I may?"

Another snort.

"So gracious. Thank you." Sarcasm laced with cynicism. "Why kill the little one here? Leave him. He's going to die anyway. We'll let Hidaka find him. He's going to be coming around for him sooner or later, trust me. When he finds the chibi here dead, or dying, he'll realize he has nothing to live for and kill himself. Besides saving us trouble it'll be a really good show."

Ryuuta's eyes widened in horror. He had to get away, had to warn Ken, make him promise not to die. He had to—

"You people are sick, you know that?"

"Didn't say we weren't. We got the job done, didn't we?"

There was the sound of general muttering and cursing. "Whatever." The nasal voice laughed at the remark.

"And what if he doesn't kill himself?"

"He will. Unless you can think of another reason a failure would want to stay alive."

Silence. Then finally. "You know what? Do what you want. I don't give a fuck." The final betrayal. Ryuuta felt the pain throbbing in his heart worse than any of the wounds in his body. Another laugh.

"Glad we have your permission. Funny thing is, I didn't intend on getting it anyway." Ryuuta watched, wide-eyed, as one of the figures—presumably the one who spoke, moved forward with lightning speed and punched the other in the guts. The traitor slumped to the ground.

"B-bastard! The fuck do you think you're doing…?!"

"You said you didn't care. And you've been a real pain in the ass thus far. Since we don't need your help anymore, I figured you might like to take a nap. Don't worry, we'll take real good care of you." a definite mocking in that nasal voice now. Ryuuta hoped they tortured him painfully until he begged for death. Another laugh.

"Awfully dark thoughts for a chibi you know? Maybe you've got some potential after all kid. But no, as much as I'm sure we'd enjoy doing so, we won't be torturing him just now. We still need him alive, unfortunately... For reasons I've yet to fathom." Ryuuta gasped in shock. Had the man read his very thoughts?! No. No that was impossible. In his pain, Ryuuta's wishes must have been written clearly on his face, that was all.

"He will be needed later on as a very essential solution to some rather troublesome enemies. I've already explained this to you." a tired, aggravated voice.

"Yes, of course. How silly of me to forget. Ahh, well. We'll be going now. Have fun with Ken-_sama_!" And the laughter faded into the night.

Slowly, Ryuuta staggered to his feet. The screaming had stopped, but Ryuuta couldn't be sure of how long ago. What had they done to Ken? Ryuuta hoped he wasn't already dead. It would break him if he knew Ken had died. There would be no one to avenge this horrible wrong. And he had to tell Ken who betrayed them. Above all else, Ken must know at least the name of the man responsible. The very thought nearly made him ill.

Ryuuta wandered forever, stopping frequently to catch his breath and rest against anything that looked stable enough to hold his weight. He finally could not stop himself from collapsing in the center of the main road; he had lost too much blood. He wondered despairingly if he would ever find Ken. He was so afraid he wouldn't. He had tried so very hard to hold on.

Just as he was despairing that he would never reach Ken in time, he became hazily aware of rapid footfalls echoing in the silence. Suddenly warm hands were on his shoulders, turning him over slowly. They fluttered up and down his body frantically, gently prodding at his wounds and making noises of despair and concern.

"Gods, Ryuuta-kun! I'm so very, very sorry. I failed you too…Gods I failed…Shit kid, what happened to you?! Who did this!?" Ken's voice sobbed from somewhere above him. Ryuuta made a small noise of despair and reached up weakly, relieved when his hand managed to find Ken's cheek. It was wet with tears.

"Ken…sa…ma…" Ryuuta had to tell him, make him promise, even if it took his last breath to do it.

"Shh. Don't try to talk ok? I'm gonna fix you up, you'll be ok. Ryuuta-kun, you'll be ok." Ryuuta was frightened of the desperateness in Ken's voice. It sounded like Ken had already broken. He sounded nearly hysterical to Ryuuta's ears. He realized belatedly that Ken had somehow drawn him into his lap partially, and was rocking them both slowly, sobbing. "You're gonna be alright kid, alright….just fine…." They sat in silence for a moment, Ryuuta's heart breaking in his chest. Gods, he didn't want to leave Ken. He was afraid to. Afraid of what would happen to him. Ken was so vulnerable. Not in the ways of battle; in the ways of the heart. He was so easy to hurt. Ryuuta didn't want to think about what his death was going to do to Ken. He determined to wrangle the promise of revenge from Ken no matter what.

"Ken-sama..." Ken's whole body jerked as if he'd been struck. Ryuuta could just make out Ken's head turning to look towards his face in the moonlight. The breath rushed out of his body as Ken's features came slowly into the light. Ken looked beyond devastated. Ryuuta was afraid for him. He swallowed determinedly.

"I want you... to promise me something..." Ken shook his head wildly and placed warm fingers gently against Ryuuta's lips.

"No Ryuuta. No promises. Save your strength. I'll promise you anything you want later. Anything. Save your strength now." It was Ryuuta's turn to shake his head.

"No Ken-sama. There won't...be a later...not for me..." Ken choked and made a strangled sound and Ryuuta wished he could take it back. He had stopped rocking them and tightened his hold around Ryuuta as if that would somehow keep him from death. Ryuuta ignored the discomfort it brought.

"Please......Ryuuta......please...." Ken didn't know what he was asking Ryuuta while at the same time knowing exactly what he was asking . They both knew the youth was dying. Ken just wanted a little longer. Just a little longer. He didn't want to be alone yet... Alone with himself and the dead and the night. Not yet. Please.

Ryuuta shook his head again. "Promise me Ken...promise me...promise...you won't die...you won't..." he broke off, coughing.

"No, no Ryuuta! Please! Don't make me promise that. You don't know what you're asking me to do..." Ken was desperate.

"It's....the only thing....I want...Ken...sa...ma...I want...you...to....live...revenge...." he coughed again, the blood filling his mouth and lungs, making it hard for him to breathe. For a moment, he thought he would black out, but suddenly Ken was sitting him up, leaning him forward, and he could breath again, albeit scarcely. Ken's hands were trembling as they stroked his back soothingly. His body was shuddering violently.

"Ryuuta-kun..." Ken's voice broke over his name, and for a moment, Ryuuta despaired of being denied. "I...I'll live to get revenge....I-I can't promise you anything after that...Please don't make me promise you anything more..." he sounded so defeated, so miserable that the words seemed to tear into Ryuuta's soul.

"So...sorry...Ken-s-s-a-n.....I'm....s-so....sorry to...leave...you...here....a-l-one...."

"No. I'm sorry. I failed you. I failed everyone. I should be apologizing. I'm sorry I couldn't save you Ryuuta-kun....so damn fucking sorry....Gods, you're too young for this ; too fucking young. I should have--" Ken was startled by Ryuuta's sudden strong grip on his shoulder. Shuddering and gasping in pain, the youth dragged himself close to Ken's face.

"K-en-san…no…don't you…dare…" Ken found himself looking into eyes so intense if he hadn't known better he would have said Ryuuta was more than alive. Ryuuta held his gaze and somehow Ken could not look away.

"Don't you…let…me…die while you…sit here…feeling…sorry…for yourself…you could never have…known…You did the best…you could…the best…" Ryuuta choked on his own blood and fell forward into Ken's chest. Ken's arms around him were a warm and welcomed comfort. He lay there in the dark, just breathing. Ken was rocking them both gently again, still sobbing, quietly. He could feel each jerk and shudder as if it were his own. Just as he could feel himself slipping away…warmed and contented…Ken would live…he would seek revenge…and somehow…Ryuuta knew he'd be happy eventually…somehow…Ken was so full of life…

"Ken-sama…" words suddenly came easy, the pain was numb now. Ken jerked again, but didn't stop rocking this time.

"A-Aa?"

"Thank-you…" he hoped Ken knew what he meant; thank you for living, thank you for comforting me, thank you for giving me a lifetime of wonderful memories to take with me…

Ken laughed; a choked, hollow sound. "I wish I could do more."

Ryuuta didn't even have the energy to shake his head, let alone speak. Until he suddenly remembered something; something very important. Something he had forgotten to tell Ken. He struggled in panic, trying to push off of Ken's chest.

"Ryuuta-kun—what?"

"Ken-san—" and he was choking on blood again, so much this time. He couldn't breathe anymore. But he had to. He had to tell Ken the name of the traitor; he had to. But all he could do was choke. His body began to shudder violently, and the world seemed to drop out of focus. He could hear Ken calling his name desperately, but it sounded as if he were at the end of a long tunnel. Gods, he was going to die, he was going to leave this plain, and he hadn't told Ken who was responsible. …Hadn't told Ken…

And the world fell away.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ken screamed again, the sound hoarse and dry this time. He sobbed violently, hugging Ryuuta's still warm body to his chest as he rocked them both forward and back desperately. He was alone, so utterly alone, and he tried to comfort himself from the warmth still within the youth's body. It didn't work.

He had thought Ryuuta would go peacefully, that he had at least been able to give the youth a comforting ending, and he had drawn his own comfort from that. But the final death throes were anything but peaceful, and Ken was so disturbed by the horror of watching it and being unable to do anything to help; those wide, horror-filled eyes were going to haunt his nightmares forever.

He didn't know how long he'd sat there, rocking and weeping. He didn't come-to until he realized that the body he was holding had begun to cool considerably. He looked down reluctantly. Ryuuta's face was spattered with blood, his mouth slightly open. His eyes stared emptily at something just over Ken's shoulder. Ken pulled his hand over the lids, closing them gently. He wanted to stay. He wanted to bury Ryuuta. But he wasn't going to. Not when there was still a chance that he could catch his enemies' trail. The night had gone from chill to cold, but Ken wasn't going to take the time to search for his gi now. Reverently, he pulled Ryuuta's hand claws, his favorite weapon, from the youth's hands and slid them onto his own. He was going to spill someone's blood tonight. A lot of it. May the gods have mercy upon their soul.

He ran, at first not knowing where he was going, but after awhile he realized he was heading for the direction Ryuuta had come from. He did not go far before he found several other pairs of footprints. He paused enough to study them at turning point. They had turned behind the huts when Ryuuta had gone onto the main road. Ken could see four sets. One belonged to a taller man, well muscled. He might give Ken more trouble if Ken couldn't get the immediate jump on him. Another set belonged to a youth younger than Ryuuta, and the thought made Ken's heart squeeze a bit. He didn't want to even look at any adolescent boys, let alone kill them at the moment. The next set also belonged to a tall man, although this one was perhaps far slighter than the first. The final set, which seemed well ahead, was that belonging to another man, perhaps less tall, but also slight, who was carrying something rather heavy. This was indicated by the depth of the prints, as well as the slight blurring of the outline.

So. He could expect four men then. He hadn't seen any familiar foot-prints, but it was dark, and footprints could easily be disguised if you knew what you were doing. Without wasting another moment, Ken took off at a brisk jog, the heat of his anger and activity warding away the cold and making him sweat instead. He ran onto the small footpath that led out of the village and into the woods, body singing with the anticipation of revenge.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They had been walking idly almost fifteen minutes before Crawford suddenly stopped, rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Farferello, look out." he intoned blandly. Farferello blinked at him and then looked around curiously. Before he could figure out what Crawford had been warning him about, a set of razor sharp claws gouged their way from between his shoulder blades to the small of his back.He fell forward with the force of the blow and then whirled around, more curious than angry, and narrowly avoided loosing his nose to a man that resembled a cross between a bear and a wolf, wearing hakamas and no shirt. He was covered in blood, grime, and soot. Muscles moved sinously in the combined moonlight and torchlight, glistening with the sweat of exertion. Whoever this man was, he'd run after them quite a ways. A brown, unruly mane matted with blood and sweat crowned his head, a fringe falling into deep brown eyes that beamed an almost insane rage. Coral lips curved into a snarl, and Farferello noted with some dissappointment that there were no fangs beneath them; only regular teeth that gleamed white against the surrounding shadows. He certianly moved fast, however. Farferello was hard pressed to keep out of his reach. Beside him somewhere, he heard Shulditch laugh.

"Saa, saa. What have we here!? Looks like an angry little kitty we must have missed." He mocked, smirking. Farferello didn't think he looked like a kitten at all. Schuditch was strange like that sometimes. " Better be careful Farferello, he might just take your ears off if you let him! Mind taking this Crawford? I'm gonna have some fun." Crawford sighed in eternal irritation and shouldered the weight of Kase Kouichirou against his shoulder. He turned towards Nagi and the youth nodded. The two of them continued on down the path as if nothing had happened.

Ken, however, whose attention had been drawn by the action, lost it when he saw Kase; Tomo-sama's only son.

"KASE!!! YOU FUCKERS!! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO KASE!? GIVE HIM BACK!!!!!!" he roared menacingly. Farferello jumped back to avoid going deaf, impressed and reconsidering wether or not this man was completely human. Schulditch looked annoyed.

"Loud little thing, isn't he?" he grumbled.

Then Ken did something that surprised even Crawford. As Shulditch and Farferello stepped into his path before he could run after Crawford, Ken managed a lightning move that allowed his right heel to connect with Shulditch's temple at the same time that his left hand landed a fatal blow with the hand claws across Farferello's chest. Both strikes were powerful. Added to that, they had been fast and unpredicted. As a result, Ken's nearly hysterical anger and desperation at the sight of his Tomo-sama's son knocked both Shulditch and Farferello aside. Farferello did not get up. The pain meant nothing. The tearing of muscles and damage to bones combined with blood-loss, however, did. Shulditch was still staggering. And Ken was almost on top of Crawford and Nagi.

Crawford gave Nagi a bland look and levered Kase onto him. "Get him out of here." was the simple command. Nagi simply nodded and continued on, hakama dragging slightly through the dirt beneath the extra burden as he had not yet reached a decent height.

Crawford frowned at the sight in slight disapproval before turning and meeting Ken head on. Before Ken could even lift a hand to strike, he found Crawford's fist buried in his mid-section. He doubled over and coughed, tasting blood. Gods, this man was strong. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Kase. Ken leapt forward again, dodging another punch to the gut, only to receive one in the shoulder. He felt it pop out of the socket with a sickening crack. He cursed loudly and grabbed it, snapping it back into place roughly with a pained grunt. The tall foreigner in front of him seemed amused.

"You're turning out to be a lot less trouble than you look." there was a mild, cruel amusement in his voice that made Ken lunge forward again. He feinted a strike to the head, then a kick to the side, before coming in with a true knee to the gut that effectively wiped the smirk from Crawford's face. Ken didn't waste time but dragged his fist down towards Crawford's face, claws out and ready for business. Crawford didn't even flinch as he grabbed Ken's wrist, the strike mere centimeters from his cheek. Without blinking, he broke it. Ken cried out in pain and fell back into a defensive crouch. "Then again, perhaps you are more trouble than you are worth." The foreigner growled menacingly.

"I wouldn't _be_ any fucking trouble if you hadn't fucked up my clan." Ken spat back venomously, rage in his eyes. He wanted to scream and curse, but he needed to save his energy; all of it, for the fight ahead.

"We didn't _fuck-up_ your clan my dear boy. We _eradicated_ it. There _is_ no more clan. That's quite a big difference, don't you think?" A voice from behind him said suddenly. Before Ken had time to react, he felt a hot, searing pain in the left side of his chest and back. He looked down in shock at the wakezashi point protruding from his bicep. He realized dimly that he tasted blood again. "You should have been a good kitty and died in the village too, with your little friend." Someone hissed in his ear, and the blade twisted viciously. Ken cried out in pain, andwithout thinking, his elbow rammed back and met someone's ribs. The pained grunt was small, but satisfying, despite the pain of the wakezashi wrenched suddenly from his chest. Ken whirled, sending shuriken flying before he was even fully turned around. He was disappointed to see they landed only in soil.

"Looking for me?" Ken had just enough time to turn a fatal strike into a less fatal glance off of his side. That didn't mean it hurt any less. Or bled any less either. He roared angrily, and lunged forward. Somehow, for the second time that evening, he managed to catch Schulditch off-guard. A few, shallow gashes in the man's upper arm was his only reward however. Schulditch was fast.

"Tsk. That wasn't very nice. You don't play very well." the man growled. Ken was suddenly aware of hisred hair in the distant light of Nagi's torch and the torch Farferello had dropped earlier. All the more fitting for a demon, he thought darkly. Schulditch came at him again, and no matter how ready Ken had been, it would not have mattered. Ken managed to catch the sword blade in the same shoulder Crawford had dislocated, but he was not able to do anything about the bruising blow delivered to his first stab wound. He cried out in pain and felt himself falling back, hitting packed earth. Somewhere above him, Schulditch laughed as Ken struggled to rise. A sharp blow to his head with something blunt sent him sprawling face-down back to the dirt, and this time, Ken couldn't make himself get up, no matter how hard he tried.

"Schulditch! Let's go! Get Farferello. We're already late." Ken could hear the voice of the tall man with dark hair barking orders. No…Ken struggled. They couldn't leave, not with Kase. Not Kase.

"Alright alright already. Aww how cute. He's worried about Kouichirou. Don't worry, Ken –_sama_. We'll take really good care of him, I promise." Schulditch taunted close to Ken's ear. Ken tried to strike out but found himself somehow pinned.

"I don't want to go yet. I want to make him scream. God is laughing because of my wounds. I want him to suffer." There was a searing pain suddenly across his back and down into his thigh. Ken struggled harder, but was disgusted to find himself too weak to dislodge whoever was pinning him down. He refused to give them the pleasure of hearing him scream, however.

"Trust me Farf. He's already suffering a good amount. Bradley says we're late already. Just leave him. He's already finished."  
" The last time you said that, you were wrong."

"Well I'm right this time, ok? He's as good as dead, let's go." Schulditch tossed an errant lock of fiery-red hair over his shoulder in agitation. Ken studied both faces, memorizing them. Hair, eyes, skin, clothing. They wouldn't be hard to find again; they were foreigners. Not only did foreigners stick out, but they were also unwelcome almost anywhere. Schulditch laughed.

'_We're a little harder to find than you think, kitty. Ja, then again, it's not like you'll be around to find us..._' a voice echoed in his mind. Ken was too exhausted and pain-numbed to be shocked by it. He could only watch as they walked away casually, the red head helping the pale man with white hair that Ken remembered wounding early-on. He drew a small amount of satisfaction from the depth and range of the wounds. At least he'd gotten one of them good. He struggled again suddenly, as their torch light began to fade, remembering Kase. He couldn't even save Kase. Four men; only four, and they had not only stopped him, but probably killed him. His best hope was that Kase would live on instead to avenge the clan. Yes, that was the only chance now.

"I'm sorry, Ryuuta-kun." He croaked, reaching a hand towards the far-off orange-glow. It faded slowly into darkness, and Ken let his hand fall. He lay sprawled motionless on his stomach, tired beyond words as he felt his blood soaking into the dirt around him. Death came as easy as closing his eyes.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WAAAHHHHH!!!!!! I'm so mean, I know it. Sorry, but it had to happen. Life wasn't exactly a picture book back then. (Hey wait....it still isn't....crap...) But don't worry!!! Yohji's in the next chapter!!!

::dodges flying projectiles and runs off into the darkness before she gets hurt...::

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	4. Lost and Found

Waaiii! Ok, since I'll be starting school visits on Thursday and won't be able to update as quickly from that point, I'm going to give you all another update today, and maybe one later this week. After that, I'm thinking around the 28th. Maybe later. I know I know, sorry, but unfortunatley, I am in Japan because I do have to work. I like my job too, so that's a plus. :) I'll be writing like mad until the end of the 19th so I can hopefully advance the story far enough to just have to put up new chapters instead of write them too. Yes, this is a WIP, but with all these reviews to keep me going, as well as plot points I want to get to, it's moving pretty fast. :) Thanks to all my reviewers, you have a section at the bottom, and special thanx to Heather R, for her wonderful encouragement and support of my story. If it wasn't for her, you probably wouldn't be reading this right now. Please check out her stuff. It's awesome!! Ok, on with the vocab.

And the vocab for today's story is:

_**"Irrashaimase!!"**_ : I LOVE this phrase! It's so nice. It means basically 'Welcome!' or/and 'How may I help you?' one of the many ways the Japanese retailers try to make their customers feel more at ease. Shopping here is really, really nice. They're so attentative and not pushy!! :)

**_Daimyo _**: A Daimyo is the equivalent of a lord. The Daimyo served as lords beneath the Shogun (or the head samurai/lord ; i.e. the head of the government.). They swore loyalty to him and served him only. In fact, I beleive later on during the Edo period (which lasted something like 500 years...), the daimyo were forced to leave their lands once a year and travel to Edo to meet with the Shogun in Edo. Their families were basically held hostage in homes in Edo near the Shogunate, and should a daimyo disobey, you can bet something not nice happened to his wife and kids. This journey also happened to be incredibly financially draining, not to mention quite long for some, which was another way the Shogun kept his power absolute. Here, Takatori is a high-ranking Daimyo who has direct ties with the Shogun. Not all daimyo do. Or did, rather. :)

Notes on clothing (i.e. gi and kimonos) are quite lengthy and probably boring for most, so they will be skipped. However, if you have the burning desire to know the ins and outs of wearing a kimono, just let me know, and I'll tell you all about it...;.

Not much else for this chapter I think. If you have any other vocab or culture questions, ask away! I'll blab about it to an embarassing length.... Ok, on with the show!!!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 3**

"_**A firefly  
Lights up  
Another firefly dead"**._

_  
Koi Nagata_

Yohji had watched the whole encounter with wide, amazed eyes. Although the enraged man on the foot path had obviously not known what group of men he was attacking, Yohji knew full well, and was floored when the young man not only landed a hit on Farferello, but managed to knock the psychopath down on a second strike; one which also managed to knock Schulditch aside as well.

From his place in the underbrush, Yohji watched the battle with Crawford and then Schulditch again unfold with anticipation, his respect and awe for the skill of the man before him growing with every moment. He had never seen such determination in a man in Ken's position. It ended however, as every moment must, with the young, half naked brunette pinned face down and at the mercy of Faferello's daggers. He breathed a sigh of relief when Crawford, a tall, American man, beckoned his associates off the young ninja and away to where they were already late for a meeting with the _daimyo_.

Once he assumed it was safe to come out, he crept slowly from his hiding place and onto the footpath towards the young man in question. Yohji had never seen a man fight like that. He had seen men fight in desperation alright, but only to save themselves. This man had had no concern for his own well being, and every concern for the unconscious Kase. It was infuriating to see him fight for Kase so desperately and know that Kase had betrayed that loyalty as if it were nothing. Cautiously, he turned the young man over, and lit a small candle he pulled from a pouch secured to his belt. The flint showered sparks into the darkness, and one caught, erupting into a small, bright flame along the candle wick. Yohji held it close to the man's face to study him.

Tanned skin and matted, tangled brown hair. Cracked, dry lips smudged with soot to match other various places on his face were opened slightly, allowing small, shallow breaths into the lungs and throat. Blood stained everything; skin, hair, what clothing the man wore. It saturated some of the soil beneath the brunette's chest. It was hard to tell if it all belonged to him. Yohji hoped not. Kritiker would not want to loose such a valuable fighter. Yohji certainly didn't think the world deserved to loose a vibrant, brave soul such as this one.

Looking around cautiously once again, he reached out and gently prodded the muscular body, checking for the depth and severity of injuries. His conclusion was grim. If he didn't get this man some form of help tonight, it was probable he would die. Yohji was suddenly grateful he'd risked coming on a horse, although the animal was at least a mile's walk back at the burned-out village. What to do? He would leave the ninja here and bring the horse back. No sense in jarring the young man overly much in his state, and he could go much faster alone and unburdened.

Course of action decided, Yohji gently moved the unconscious brunette to the side of the foot path and pulled off his own black gi, laying it over the man's chest as a protective, camouflaging cover as much for warmth. He was already anticipating a fever. It did not need to grow any worse. He blew out the candle and set it back in his pouch. Settled, Yohji ran off at a quick pace, eager to get his horse and get them both out. He was taking a big risk by saving this man. A big risk on all sides. He only hoped he wouldn't regret it.

OOOOO

He returned what felt like an eternity later, but had only been perhaps twenty minutes at most. The man still lay still and unmoving where Yohji had left him, and he sighed in relief. He could see no signs of anyone else having come by, and dismounted, tethering his horse to a low-hanging pine branch while he figured out the best way to get them both onto the horse and stable enough to ride without aggravating any of the young man's wounds further. He finally untethered his horse and managed to somehow heave the man into the saddle, leaning him against the horse's neck. He may have looked smaller than Yohji, but Yohji should have guessed at the dense, packed muscle beneath the tanned skin. Yohji climbed up behind him and gently pulled him back to rest against his chest, tucking the black gi around him more securely once more. He took up the reigns in one hand around the left side, careful to avoid the large gash across the man's ribs, while his other hand slid carefully around his waist to keep him in place. Deciding they were as settled as they would ever be, Yohji nudged his horse into a gallop towards the neighboring village. He needed a place to hide Ken and see to it that he was cared for, and he had just the lovely lady in mind…

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yuriko yawned heavily and shuffled her feet slowly as she moved out of the front door and into the pre-dawn chill. A pale blue color was just blooming on the horizon, and although she thought it was beautiful, she would have gladly stayed in bed and missed it for a little more sleep. But work was work, and life as a fisherman's daughter was hard work; which meant early hours and little sleep. In the distance, she could still see thin wisps of smoke from the hidden village close by. She shuddered involuntarily. Normally such wisps could have been dismissed as cooking fires, and they had been; before the village had been destroyed. Yuriko wondered about that constantly since they had heard the news; seen the huge flames roaring into the twilight sky in the distance nearly a day and a half ago. Not how. But why. _Why_ had someone been so cruel, so completely merciless as to destroy an entire village and leave the ones around it? It seemed so awful to her. Not that she wanted her village to be attacked, but she wondered why only _that_one. Bandits would surely have hit the entire area. And they would not have been able to destroy everything so completely, she was sure of it. Nor would they have bothered.

The familiar sounds of her father moving about in the storage shack brought her back to the moment, and the day ahead. Yuriko sighed heavily, wishing that her life wasn't so monotonous. She would have liked _some_ kind of adventure. She often dreamed of packing up her few things and simply traveling, anywhere her feet could take her. But she couldn't leave her father and mother alone. They were getting older now, and she was their only daughter. They needed the strength of her youth to live. It was unfair, but that was life, and she would be dammned if she'd ever desert them to that kind of fate.

She was stretching as she heard a familiar, soft whistle in the bushes near the side of the house. A small thrill coursed up her spine as she checked to make sure no one was watching and then darted towards the sound. She dove through a small screen of underbrush and giggled softly in delight when Yohji caught her up in his arms and kissed her senseless. She gave in to him for a moment of enjoyment before pulling back and fixing him with a sassy glare.

"Kudo Yohji, how dare you!! What do you think you're doing here!?" she growled. Yohji put his fingers to his lips in alarm, trying to motion her into silence.

"Yuriko, my love, do I _ever_ need a reason to look at your beautiful face?" he crooned silkily, flashing her a charming smile. Yuriko remained unmoved. She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted mock hurt.

"Of course not. Or Asano-chan's, or Reika-chan's, or Midori-chan's, or Shizuka-chan's….Did I leave anyone out?" she asked, batting her eyelashes in deceptive sweetness. Yohji winced.

"Ahh….no, I think that about covers it." He replied guiltily. '_At least in this area anyways._' He quipped silently.

"And what are you doing hiding in the bushes and being all secretive? I have to work today, so if you want to enjoy my company, you'd better let father know you're here." She went on further. Yohji's eyes widened in panic.

"NO! Err….no, that's alright thanks. I still have a scar from the last time I think. Your old man is pretty scary…" he trailed off, rubbing at his left arm and wincing.

"My _father_ is only worried about his daughter's reputation and vulnerability to ladies' men like yourself." Yuriko shot back. "And anyway, why _are_ you here so secretly?" her curiosity was piqued.

"Actually, aside from seeking your charming company while wishing to keep my manhood relatively intact, I have a err….favor to ask you…" when Yuriko pouted again he pressed on hastily. "Remember the village that got sacked?"

"How could I forget Yohji? Gods, it was awful…"

"Right, well, they were wrong about the survivors. There was one. He's really badly hurt though. And Yuriko, I have a feeling someone will be looking for him. You don't go to the trouble of slaughtering an entire village to let one guy go missing…Can you….Do you know a good hiding place…?" Yohji winced, waiting to be blasted into the next phase of the moon for trying to drag her into danger. He was quite disconcerted when he got a brilliant, sunny smile instead.

"Is _that_ what you wanted?? Yohji, of course! You know I'd do anything to help someone in need. That poor man, is he going to be ok? Let's put him up in my room right away. I'm sure mom will help with the bandaging. Dad will understand—" Yohji put his fingers to her lips before she could continue, looking around cautiously to see if anyone had overheard them yet.

"Yuriko, I'm not putting you or your family in that kind of danger. Listen, I need a good place to hide him where _no one_ lives. I'll need to bandage him up and someone needs to check on him regularly to make sure he's alive until I can come back for him tomorrow. Can you do that for me?" Yuriko looked put out, but nodded. She hated to admit that she was touched by Yohji's concern for the welfare of her family and herself.

"There's a woodshed out on the edge of Kakuhiro's farm that no one uses this time of year. Usually it's for when they're looking at the far fields and have to stay over night, so it's got a palate in it. Not sure how it's going to be for a sick man though. It's on the way to town, so I can check on him regularly enough, but I can't baby-sit him all the time if my parents don't know what's going on." The edge in her voice was softened by concern for a stranger.

"That's more than I can hope to ask for Yuriko-chan, you're the best!" Yohji responded, clasping her hands affectionately.

"Wait for me by the pond near the road to town. I'll sneak away in an hour and meet you there. We'll go together and you can explain things to me a little better. Until then…" she kissed him and turned, running towards the house just as the voice of her father rose in pitch, demanding to know where she was. Yohji smiled to himself and sped off towards his horse. He knew he'd made the right choice. Yuriko may have been upset with him; with good reason, as always, but she was more than willing to help someone else in need.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

As he waited in the shade of the woods beside the pond, Yohji decided to take the opportunity to cleanse the injured man's wounds; both to get a better look and stave off infection. He was rewarded with a soft groan as he leaned the man forward onto his horse's neck again as he dismounted.

"C'mon pal. Let's get you cleaned up ok? Don't want you to get infected or anything…" Yohji said amiably as he lowered the injured from his horse's back and carefully into his arms. He staggered towards the pond beneath the weight, feeling slightly awkward with his extra burden. His lanky legs couldn't seem to straighten themselves all the way and it was all he could do to keep from tripping over his own two feet. This resulted in him rather clumsily depositing the man on the small shore rather than lowering him carefully, as he had originally intended. The impact seemed to jar the man awake and he heaved himself into a sitting position with great effort as he struggled to take in his surroundings. When deep brown eyes half shadowed by long, dark lashes landed on him, Yohji twinkled his fingers merrily.

"Why hello sleeping beauty. What a relief to see you awake." he chuckled. The man balked at Yohji and looked around again in confusion.

"R-Ryuuta-kun? Takehiro-kun?" he mumbled incoherently. Fearing a memory jog would be too much at the moment, Yohji's brain raced to grope any diversion.

"One of those your name? Or should I just call you wild man? I'm sure the ladies adore you, especially considering your current attire." He crooned, eyeing the lean body before him suggestively. The confusion in those brown eyes got evenmore muddled before sparking into anger. The man opened his mouth, no doubt to give Yohji a piece of his mind, but instead coughed blood. Yohji cursed colorfully and sprang forward, pulling the man up into a full sitting position, thumping his back to get his lungs cleared. When the coughing fit finished, he laid the man back down carefully.

"Sorry about that. We'd better be careful for a little bit. How's this? My name is Yohji. What's yours?" Yohji wasn't really expecting an answer, given the man's state, but he got one.

"K-Ken. My name's…Ken. Where…..What happened?" he asked slowly, his voice sounding wet and raspy. Yohji winced.

"You're at a pond right now. I'm going to clean you up. I'm not really sure what happened yet." he responded. The lie was partial and smooth, but necessary. The last thing Yohji was going to say to a man so critically injured was 'By the way, your whole clan is dead, and the guy who's responsible for selling you out now works for the high-ranked daimyo that obliterated you. You're now a wanted man probably. You can kiss your old life goodbye.' Ken seemed to relax at the response anyway, so Yohji considered his job done. "Why don't you rest Ken? You need it." Ken didn't argue. He seemed grateful as his eyes slid closed and his head fell back against Yohji's arm. Yohji sighed in relief at the sound of a more steady breathing. Ken, huh? Yohji thought about Ken while he cleansed wounds and began trying to combat early signs of fever and infection.

OOOOO

Forty-five minutes later, Yuriko burst into the clearing like a whirlwind, hefting a small, tied bundle which she promptly dropped at Yohji's side and opened. Yohji watched her sift through it curiously before leaning forward to peer at it's contents.

Buddha bless the woman, she'd brought a hefty medicinal sack. It had salves, bandages, teas, poultices, everything they could possibly need, including needles and suturing thread.

" I didn't know how bad it was so I brought everything." she remarked absently, pulling out the needles, thread, and some salves of various kinds. Yohji smiled warmly at her; a smile that was not like his bedroom smile he always used. It was a real smile, and had Yuriko seen it, it would have taken her breath away.

"Anything you brought would have been fine, even if it was only yourself." he replied affectionately, his respect for her already climbing.

"Gods help you Yohji, he needs more than just my charming personality!" She fumed. Yohji only laughed as she continued. She elected to ignore him. "I've only got twenty minutes, so I'm giving this to you to take care of. We've got to get to the hiding spot before anyone notices I'm gone and comes looking for me." she repacked the bag and shoved it at Yohji as she bent over Ken in concern. "Is he going to make it? He's pretty cute…" she remarked off-hand. Yohji sighed and shook his head.

"With luck, he'll make it. He woke up when we got here for about five minutes. Long enough to tell me his name was Ken. He doesn't really remember what happened yet, and I want to keep it that way as long as possible, ok Yuri-chan? I think having his memory revived is going to be bad for his health." Yuriko nodded in agreement and let the ridiculous pet name slide. She helped him slide Ken back onto his horse and then mount behind him, and ignoring his protests that she not have to walk while he rode, she grabbed the reigns and led them the back way through Kakuhiro's fields and towards the small shed as quickly and discreetly as possible. The morning sun had disappeared in favor of heavy grey clouds that hung low and promised rain. The cicadas remained silent in the fields.

Once they arrived, Yuriko turned to help Yohji dismount and dismount Ken and carry him into the shed. Once she was certain that he was settled, she turned again to Yohji.

"I have to go now, I'll already have been missed. My father figured out it was you this morning, and he's pretty pissed off. He'll be watching me all day now Yohji. I don't know that I'll be able to keep coming back here. People will get suspicious." Yohji took her hands in his gently to keep them from fidgeting in guilt with the hem of her kimono sleeve. He gently disentangled the pale yellow material from her fingers and pulled her into his arms.

"It's alright, Yuriko. You've already done more than enough. I don't want you in trouble with your parents again. And I certainly don't want you engendering any kind of suspicion on yourself or Ken, so stay away if it isn't safe to come. Ken's already woken up once, so he'll be fine. I'll only be gone one night." Yohji comforted. Yuriko nodded against his chest.

"I'll worry anyway, and come as much as I can. It'll be a lot easier when my parents fall asleep. There's a blanket in that bag, I'll bring another tonight so he stays warm. Please make sure he stays safe Yohji." she replied softly, pushing away from his chest. She slipped out silently, and was gone.

Yohji looked down at Ken grimly. He hadn't told Yuriko about the fever or infection that were setting in just yet. He didn't want her to worry and risk discovery. But all the same, that meant leaving an injured sick man in a wood shed by himself. And with the looming threat of rain. Yohji looked at the ceiling briefly with dislike before setting to work bandaging Ken's wounds. Most of them had ceased to bleed during the journey, and miraculously, Ken hadn't died of blood loss. But that didn't mean he would make it now. It meant he had less of a chance to make it now than he would have if Yohji had had the means to patch him up last night. It was going to be touch and go. Either he or Yuriko would come in to see a live man, or a dead one. Yohji fervently hoped it would be a live one as his fingers felt the heat radiating from the wounds. Some of them looked swollen and overly-red already. It looked, Yohji thought darkly, like the fever was already here. It was going to be a lot harder to explain himself to his bosses if he showed up with a dead man instead of a live one. He was already two hours late.

The rain came, just as the fever settled in, and Yohji found himself soaking a folded bandage in rain water to bathe Ken's fevered forehead. So far the ceiling proved to do a decent job of keeping out the water. He was going to have to leave soon. It was going to be hard to tear himself away. Despite everything he was, Yohji was not a man who liked to see decent people suffer, and he certainly did not like leaving helpless invalids by themselves in rain storms, but it had to be done or he was going to have to start worrying about his own survival. Wrapping a blanket around Ken and tucking it in securely, Yohji laid the compress on Ken's forehead one last time and left with a backwards glance. He would be fast. As fast as he could be.

His horse whickered at him for leaving it in the rain, and Yohji gave it an apologetic pat on the nose before mounting him and nudging him into another gallop towards the village. He chose the back roads and forest paths, until he reached the back of a certain tea house. He dismounted, rain water running off him in rivulets, and handed his horse's reigns to a surprised looking servant.

"Take good care of him, I'm afraid he's had some rather rough treatment from me recently." He said casually before slipping in through the back door. He looked up from slipping off his shoes, startled, at the call of "_Irrashaimase_!" He was using the servant's quarters, wasn't he?

Confused and startled Jade met deep sapphire blue that contained a hint of anger and smugness.

"Where the hell have _you_ been?! Manx is about ready to spit fire!!" Omi grumbled at him. "And guess who's gotta sit there politely and take her wrath full force?" Yohji smiled in sympathy, shoes finally off, and stepped completely onto the hard wood floor.

"Sorry Omittitchi, something incredibly important came up." he apologized. Omi glared at him.

"If it had long legs, full breasts, and wore sweet perfume, then I'm not taking it as an acceptable excuse!" he growled, removing a flawless hand from a wide, cream-colored silk sleeve and rapping Yohji sharply on the head with his folded fan. He frowned, suddenly noticing the state of Yohji's attire. "And what the hell are you doing soaked and wearing that outfit!? Are you _trying_ to attract attention!?" he huffed.

Yohji frowned now. He could understand being angry about having to be around Manx when she was…upset, but Omi was getting on his already frayed nerves. "Do you think I did this on _purpose_!? I've been _busy_!" he ground out. "And if you let me get in to see Manx, I'll tell you both why." He added.

Omi didn't say anything, but he scowled and led Yohji down the hall, frowning in disgust as Yohji dripped water everywhere. He paused outside a closed doorway and motioned for Yohji to wait. He went further down the hall and disappeared behind a doorway before coming back and tossing Yohji a blanket. "Sit on this so you don't ruin the floors." He grumbled before sliding the door open.

Manx was wearing a pale blue kimono that had a painting of mountains and pine trees covered in snow chasing gracefully across its hem and the hem of the long sleeves. Here and there a grey crane with a touch of red was captured in flight. Her hair was done up simply and stylishly for business, and she knelt at a low lacquered table, calmly sipping tea. Yohji wondered, for a brief, deceptive instant as he stepped inside and heard Omi slide the door shut behind them, what the hell Omi was so mad about. Omi slid quietly across the floor and knelt at her side, hands folded into his kimono sleeves once more. He studied the red thread looping through the sleeve hems with a sudden intense interest, and Yohji read this as a sign of extreme nervousness in Omi.

One look at Manx confirmed his suspicion. She had that icy, icy calm on her face that meant she was probably very, very angry. No wonder Omi looked so nervous. She motioned to him to sit across from them without looking up from her tea. Yohji sat immediately and steeled himself for the fight of his life. Before he could even open his mouth, Manx looked up, her eyes meeting his, steel in their depths.

"I'm giving you _one_ chance to explain yourself, _Balinese_, so it had better be good." she said softly, setting her tea-cup aside and giving him her full attention. Yohji swallowed and squirmed beneath the calmly furious gaze, trying to find a way to save his hide.

"I've found Kritiker a new agent." he said finally, wincing internally at how pitiful that had sounded. At her raised eyebrow and Omi's suddenly interested look, he pressed on carefully. "Takatori sent me out to watch his men and make sure nothing went amiss, which, of course, was as planned….But as the night was finishing up and I was tailing Schwartz, a ninja that had survived came out of nowhere and attacked them head on." Here he paused for effect, enjoying the way both Manx's and Omi's eyebrows rose in further interest. The tightness in Manx's face loosened just slightly. "He…are you ready for this? He got the drop on Farferello, then he managed to knock both Schulditch and Farferello down in _one_ attack. Farferello didn't get up, and it took Schulditch several minutes to recover. He ran for Crawford next. He was after that guy Kase—he must not have realized what Kase had done—and he just jumped right at Crawford—"

"Wait, he made it _through_ Schulditch and Farferello and then tried to get at Crawford head on?" Omi interrupted. Yohji nodded. "Yeah. Crawford knocked him around a bit but he managed to get a good knee into Crawford's gut before Schulditch ran him through with a wakezashi. It all went down hill from there, and they fucked him up pretty badly. But man, you should have seen it. When Crawford dislocated his shoulder he just popped it back into place like it was nothing."

"Is he _alive_ Yohji?" Manx asked, although her frown had turned more thoughtful than angry. Yohji nodded.

"Yeah. But he's in pretty bad shape. I don't know if he'll make it. That's why I was late. I was trying to patch him up." here, he held his breath, anxious to see if he would make it past Manx's wrath.

"Where is he now?" she persisted.

"I left him in a wood shed at the edge of a field. I figured it'd be best to hide him since I don't know who, if anyone, will come looking for him if they know he's alive." Manx nodded slowly. "But he needs help Manx; real help, or he's going to die. His whole clan is dead. He thinks Kase's been kidnapped. He's not in the best condition to be left alone in a wood shed. When I left him, fever was setting in. And if he wakes up and tries to go anywhere…."

Omi's eyes were already full of sympathy, but Manx remained as unmovable as steel. "What if he's a liability?" she asked slowly. Yohji shrugged. "He is. Is he evil? No. A bad person? No. Is he desperate? Yes. If we come at him the right way, he'll be more than ready to work for Kritiker. But right now, I think when he remembers what happened, the only thing he's going to embrace is suicide. He fought with the strength of an angry, desperate man Manx. He wants revenge. If we promise him that, he'll come to us more than willing." The steel in her eyes softened thoughtfully.

"And his potential for loyalty to Weiss?" Yohji looked thoughtful. "Very good. Again, provided we handle him carefully. We show him we have no ill-will and want to prevent mass slaughter and unjust punishment, and I have a feeling he'll be more than game. Right now he has nothing. We can use that to our advantage." He replied confidently. A heavy silence descended upon the room, and Manx turned finally to look at Omi.

"And what do you make of this?" she asked neutrally. Omi frowned. "I think it bears looking into at the very least. If he's as wounded as Yohji says right now, he won't be able to fight us, let alone become a threat. It would be to our advantage to learn all we can about him and see if he can be turned towards our cause." he replied carefully. Manx nodded in approval. She turned and fixed a relieved looking Yohji with a stern glare.

"You will tell me where you have put him. You will then go and wash up and change for your meeting with Takatori. When you are done, you will come back here immediately. I am holding you top person responsible for this man's care and supervision. If anything goes wrong, you will kill him without hesitation, is that clear?" Yohji nodded, meeting her eyes firmly. "Good. And Yohji?" when he looked back up, she glowered at him full strength. "Next time, at least send a carrier pigeon or something, all right? In the name of the Gods." She growled in frustration. At his second nod, she gestured towards the door. "You're dismissed. Now go get to the baths for heaven's sake." she grumbled, wrinkling her nose. Yohji smiled charmingly. It was so nice to be worried about when you were out risking your neck for the good of Japan, he thought as he slid the door closed silently behind him and wandered off down the hall whistling cheerily.

Within, Manx turned to Omi. "Send a couple of our agents out to retrieve this ninja. If he _has_ wandered off, have them track him for as long as he stays conscious, then bring him back here to me." Omi nodded and rose, bowing hastily before hurrying off to find a couple of agents that could be spared, the fine silk of his kimono fluttering elegantly behind him against cedar-wood floors and white paper doors as he went.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

And the plot thickens....I know I know, poor KenKen ne? I just wanna grab him up and hug him and tell him it'll all be ok....But I'll be strong, cause I know Ran's going to do it for me eventually...In his own Ran kind of way....

Ok, reponse to the reviewers!!! (WAAII!)

_carrothien_ : Thanks so much! I'm glad you liked it. I'm also glad all the technical notes didn't bore you. I was afraid they would, and the language would prove to be a problem. Keep reading and I'll update asap! What did you think of Yohji??

_Ru-chan_ : Thanks! I'm sorry about the chapter menu, it was messed up for some reason. I've been told it's been fixed, so hopefully now you can read the rest, ne? Enjoy!!

_HeatherR_ : Waii!!!! I'm just as excited as you are, I think!! I can't beleive my story is up and getting reviews! I didn't even think it was going to be that great! Thank you again for all your support and encouragement! You're amazing yourself, you know?

_L.A. Mason_ : ::Blush:: I'm flattered that you're enjoying my story so much seeing as it's in a context you normally don't enjoy. Thank you so much, and don't worry, I plan to write lots more. I think this story may wind up being a bit longer than I suspected...You are quite welcome, and I hope future chapters are as enjoyable as this one!

_Whisper Reilman_ : ::Blush:: Yet another reviewer flatters me to my toes. I'm so glad that you like the story, and quite amazed that you find my story such a rare treat. I appreciate you commenting on the Loose/lose. I try to pick up on these things, but sometimes they slip my mind. Kind of embarassing, ne? Especially for an English teacher in Japan. Oh dear...I shall try to correct the mistake when I have time, and look out for it in my other chapters. If you find anything else please let me know. And see!?! Ken's NOT dead! :) From his point of view in the last chapter, he thought he was dying. But he's not! _Mattaku!_ ("Really!/ Honestly!") I'm not THAT heartless. I love Ken too much to kill him off! Besides, Ken is one of the driving forces of this story. Without him, the plot sort of looses a lot. heh. All better now?? .;

_RuByMoOn17_ : Yes, Ran will come out to play very soon. Actually, you have about another two chapters to go. He's in the chapter after the next short one. I plan on trying to get in as many characters as I can work in without making things awkward. This will be a Ran/Ken much later on...:)

_kasugai gummie_ : Ack! You too! ::Blush::I'm so very very flattered by your review!! I'm so glad you liked it that much, and that you approve of the language usage. I speak the language myself a bit, living here, and I hate it when people use it inapporpriatley, or at the wrong moment, so it intterrupts the flow. I like putting the vocab at the beginning so the readers don't have to stop in the middle of the story and go look it up at the bottom! . I'm very glad I can show instead of tell. Actually, I AM an English teacher right now. Maybe that has something to do with it. Although I don't think my little Japanese middle-schoolers will have to worry about something as technical as 'show don't tell' yet, ne? They can barely tell me about themselves right now. .; Ah! And the haikus are direct translations I found online. I have a book of them, but it isn't here, so unfortunatley, I have to trust what I can find. I'm a big fan of the haiku. I like the fear one too. I thought it fit rather well. I'll keep updating as often as possible. Please keep reading!!!

Whew! All done! Thanx to all of you, you're part of what keeps this story going!

_Matta miru ne?_ (See you next time/later!)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	5. We Wear the Mask

I'm updating two chapters for you lovely people in apology for not being able to update for another week or so, maybe longer. Sorry again guys, but like I said, I DO have to work. And school visitis don't really allow time for much else....In favor of updating two chapters, I hope you'll forgive me for not specifically thanking all of you for reviewing. I'm terribly sorry, but time is short, and I thought you'd prefer to have me write more chapters instead. Enjoy! :) And thanks so much again to all my readers. I really appreciate you leaving reviews!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 3B**

"**_Cage of a leopard.  
Not a water drop  
Remains in the sky."_**

_Kakio Tomizawa_

When Yohji breezed into Kawakaze Tea House that evening for his meeting with Reiji, Takatori fifteen minutes late, it was planned rather carefully this time around. As of yet, he was Reiji's private spy whom no one, not even his four body-guards, knew about. Yohji sauntered in wearing a silk kimono of deep blue bearing three crests instead of five; a testament to his casual attitude. He flirted with nearly every woman from the entrance to the room in which Takatori waited for him, and let himself in casually. Takatori grinned at him almost immediately.

"There you are Kudo. I was wondering what the hell you were doing." he chuckled merrily. Here, being late was Yohji's ally, not his enemy. He had worked it so that if he came on time, Takatori knew there was trouble. With a grin to match Takatori's, he sauntered over and knelt down across from the man as Takatori poured him a healthy shot of sake. There were three charming young geisha in the room wearing kimonos whose color and design complimented each of the others. Yohji wondered if they had planned that. Probably.

"Ahhh, Takatori-san, pardon my tardiness, but there was a lovely young thing that just could not be ignored coming out of an inn up the road as I passed. I could not resist." Takatori only chuckled. "I figured as much. I remember those days." he replied amiably. "I'd still be enjoying myself the way you do if I hadn't tied myself to two charming young ladies already." Yohji hid his disgust at the mention of Takatori's having become the danna of two geisha instead of one. Neither one knew about the other, and Yohji thought it was a particularly disgraceful thing to do, especially to a woman like a geisha. Instead he only smiled and said " Ahh, but you don't know what you're missing you know. The blossoms keep getting lovelier every year." Takatori only chuckled and shook his head. "Some day Kudo, you'll find a woman who'll make all the others look so perfectly bland you'll never look the other way again."

'If that's not the pot calling the kettle black…', Yohji thought in disgust. He forced himself not to spiral into the darker thoughts of the one woman he _had_ loved, and whom Takatori and the Shogunate had inadvertently taken away from him.

"Yes." he agreed. "Perhaps someday. In the mean time, why not enjoy the very best life has to offer?", he suggested, waggling his eyebrows. The geisha blushed charmingly and Takatori laughed. "That's why I like you Kudo. You're very much the way I was at that age.", he replied merrily. Inwardly, a part of Yohji twisted painfully. It would be a cold day in hell before he would ever let himself become anything _like_ Takatori.

"So. Give me news." The slightly sterner tone temporarily dispersed Yohji's inner storm cloud. "Of course. All went as you had planned. An errant ninja attacked Schwartz as they were leaving, hence their apparent tardiness to their meeting with you, but they disposed of him rather easily. Other than him, another novice ninja was easily taken care of back at the village. Oh—they _did_ manhandle Kase a bit. He won't be happy about that—but as far as I can see, he kept his part of the bargain too. What did the Schwartz have to say?" Yohji hoped to the Gods he hadn't left anything out or that he hadn't been spotted carrying Ken away to safety. Takatori's easy expression told him no, but still…

"Initially I was rather upset at their late arrival, but the good news they bore in addition to the bounty I've collected from the dead village were enough to reassure me. You're simply confirming what I already knew, and I must admit, I'm glad you don't have anything to rain on my parade with." he replied amiably, a man feeling at the height of his confidence. Yohji could could have lied directly to his face rather shabbily and he'd probably have believed it. 'Pathetic'. , he thought sourly. "Drink up, drink up" Takatori urged, and Yohji reached forward, swallowing the contents of the small cup easily. Despite his lightweight appearance, he could easily out-drink most men twice his size right under the table. Pretending to be drunk was just part of the fun of his job.

The rest of the evening was spent wallowing in wine and women while glowering at Takatori behind a smiling, arrogant mask. In the back of his mind, he wondered with a small pang how Ken was faring.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SO that was short. Sorry, but it was only a breif scene to sort of fill in the things that are happening around Ran and Ken. Not like, you know, anything happening outside of Ran/Ken could be important...er...I mean...Right, carrying on then...

WAAAAIIIIII!!!!!! End Chapter 3!! Do you know who's next?? Do ya do ya??? Iiiiiitttt'ssssss….RAN!!! YAY!!! It's Ran the disgruntled ronin. I don't know about you , but I'm excited…. :)


	6. Complications

Here we are, Chapter 4 already. Are you all ready for Ran?? I know I am! No vocab really, just some quick culture notes:

_Seppuku_ : Seppuku is the act of committing ritual suicide. Normally, this entails the participant to basically gut himself from his stomach to his chest with his own sword or dagger. (Sounds like a wonderful way to go, ne?) A comrade or witness usually stood nearby, sword at ready, and once the err...participant had done this, the witness lopped off his head, so he wouldn't have to bleed to death slowly and painfully. Seppuku was considered to be an honorable act. Often, a samurai who's lost his master, or was disowned by his master (the ultimate disgrace) ,was expected to commit seppuku honorably and follow after his master. Or if his master had disowned him, committing seppuku was a way to right all dishonor. So your reputation would be cleared, but you would be quite dead. Acutally, it often meant that your family did not have to live in disgrace after you were dead, but I'm not sure how true that is. Often, as punishment for crimes against the Shogunate, a samurai was forced to commit seppuku. This was considered a favor as it allowed the samurai to die with honor and acknowledged that he indeed had a human heart. Isn't that nice of the Shogunate? ::sunny smile::

So while we're on the subject of seppuku, let's talk about Ronins, or for you Kenshin nuts, Ruroni, seeing as how both of these terms are actually almost the oppositte of seppuku. Oh dear, did I say there wasn't really any vocab? Sorry. ::blush::

Ok so, a _Ronin (lit. 'wave-man')_is a masterless samurai. Basically, he's either lost his master in battle, etc., been disowned by his master, or left his master. Ronins started popping up quite often during the late Tokugawa (Edo) period, if I remember correctly, due to an increase in poverty and bad economy. This resulted in many daimyos having to let their retainers (samurai) go since they could not afford to pay them. This in turn, made many ronin. Ronin were generally outcast in Edo society, as they were considered dishonorable in not following their master and committing seppuku. (Tough crowd, ne?). Also, because they did not pledge loyalty to any one master, they were seen as more dangerous and less moral. Regardless of whether they were actually good men or not. Although there are reports of Ronin who banded together and behaved more like ruffians and bandits than honorable men.

A _Ruroni_ is almost the same as a Ronin basically; a samurai who has lost his path. I think it's a little better and less dishonorable to be a ruroni than it is to be a ronin. I'm not quite sure on the diffrence outside of that though. But it does seem to me that ruroni is a more respected term.

Finally, some more notes on a Ryokan. In Japan, it is not rude to call for a waitress or maid. Usually, it is done by raising your hand and yelling '_summimasen!_' (Excuse me! or I'm sorry!) If you wait around for the waitress/waiter to come to you, you'll be waiting all night. Heh. It is ettiquitte for a maid or server to say 'Excuse me.' (Summimasen/Shitsureishimasu!) before entering a room. In very formal or traditional settings they will sit _seiza_, or traditional style with the legs folded beneath them, just outside the door and bow before entering. They also bow before leaving and say _Shitsureishimashita!_ , which translates roughly to something like...oh wow...it's kind of hard to explain. It's basically the past tense of _Shitsureishimasu._ So maybe like 'I'm done, please excuse me!' It's another one of those terms that we don't have an equivalent for in the english language.

And an _Ofuro_ is a traditional style bath, and often commonly used to describe modern baths and showers as well. The traditional style is a real treat! It's very hot water deep enough to soak in up to your neck, and feels marvelous. Proper etiquette says that you must first wash yourself thoughroughly with a hand shower or bucket of water first before getting into the tub. The tub isn't really to cleanse so much as it is to relax. It's really wonderful...Poor Ken Ken could probably use it right about now...

Finally, long ago, when a kimono had to be cleaned it was actually physically taken apart; each peice cleaned individualy, and then stitched back together again. Sounds like a lot of work to me...

Ok, was that confusing or what? I won't keep you from the story any longer!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 4**

"**_Being awake_**

**_He says he is already asleep_**

**_Autumn chilly night."_**

_Buson Yosa_

**_Edo_**

Ken awoke slowly, like a man wandering through a forest blanketed in deep snow. The first thing he became aware of was the quiet hiss of a rain storm surrounding him soothingly. The next thing he realized was that he was, in fact, dry. Putting two and two together, he figured that it was raining steadily and he was lying on something relatively soft in a…shelter of some sort. For a moment, he didn't move, and half expected his mother or one of his siblings to come in any moment and ask him how he was feeling; tell him he'd been horribly sick and had them all worried. Somehow, he knew in the back of his mind that wouldn't happen.

He felt stiff and dizzy. His brain muzzily informed him that he was, in fact, quite ill. He felt both hot and cold, and incredible, searing pain. At the moment, breathing was even a challenge. There was a horrible, nagging sensation in the back of his mind that was threatening to come forward and overwhelm him with something important he was supposed to be remembering. Something about a mission? Ken stomach was starting to do some strange flip flops that had nothing to do with the dizziness, and his head began pounding double time in order to keep itself quiet. Neither seemed to work, and that sick, 'something's horribly wrong' feeling began to worsen rapidly. Ken felt it might be a good plan to open his eyes.

Instantly, he regretted it. Even the dull, grey light from the one tiny hole that served as a window in whatever shack he was in was too much for Ken to take right away. Sliding his eyes shut again, he tried desperately to _pretend_ now that he was home, and sick, and that his mother would be in at any moment with a worried, sympathetic smile and some sort of foul-tasting tea. He wondered how long he'd been out and if his parents were worried. Come to think about it, why was he alone? Weren't there other men on this mission? Gods, had something happened to them?!

Ken snapped upright in sudden panic, eyes flying open. After the first, horrible, dizzy wave of pain, he was able to take in his surroundings a bit better. He coughed, and tasted blood; a good deal of it. Alarmed, he put his hand to his mouth and stared hard down at his red tipped fingers when they came away. It was then that he noticed his state of undress.

A blanket that had been covering him was bunched at his waist, and Ken almost thought that he was naked for a moment before he caught sight of his grubby and stained navy-blue hakama peaking out. For all the covering they provided, they were torn and badly damaged, and Ken may as well have been naked anyway. Although the comfort of still having his pants was a strange relief. Above his hakama, his entire abdomen was swathed in snowy-white bandages tinged here and there with patches of faint rust. He was wounded too? Judging by what he was seeing, he had been wounded badly. Further up, his left shoulder was bandaged heavily, as well as his chest. Whoever had bandaged him may as well have made a shirt out of the bandages, and been done with it.

Shakily, he stood, and staggered blearily towards the doorway. Peering out, he recognized the large road that connected his village to other villages, and by default next recognized that he was at the edge of the neighboring village. Why on earth wasn't he in his own village instead of the neighboring one? Thinking about it made a sudden sharp pain lance through his skull. When it cleared away, he remembered why he wasn't in his own village. He remembered everything as if someone had flicked a switch, and wished to the gods that he hadn't. The mission, his men, Ryuuta, Kase…

For one horror-filled moment, Ken couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe. He sank to his knees slowly inside the doorway, like a man moving through water, and stayed there; empty, horror-filled eyes staring at slivers of falling rain.

Gone.

Everything was gone.

His life, his friends, his family, his lord.

All of it was gone, and he could never have it back.

A low moan rose in his throat and became a high, anguished keen. He rocked himself to and fro on his knees, hugging himself; trying to ease the pain that was far worse than any of his injuries. With a shudder, he burrowed his face in his hands and tangled them in his hair. And he simply sobbed. Just fell apart at the seams like an old kimono taken to be cleaned. He would never be whole; he'd never be sane again. He was going to see all of their faces in his nightmares for all eternity. He was going to hear their voices and smell the scent of charred flesh and wood for the rest of his days. Why had the gods left only him? Was this some kind of punishment?

When he finally came back to himself; clawed his way out of the grief, his body was shuddering from the cold and exhaustion. He had stopped rocking and his arms hung limply at his sides. He realized, dimly, that he was probably still dying, despite the kind efforts of whoever had bothered to tend him. A pang of guilt assaulted him for their wasted efforts. Not only was it pointless, but he didn't deserve it. They should have let him die; bleed to death in the woods and suffer until he slipped off to hell. They should have just…

Kase.

Gods, Kase. Kase was still alive. They'd taken him. Ken had to find him. He had to find him now, before it was too late, before he was dead. He rose unsteadily, like a zombie, and went inside in search of his weapons. They had been laid neatly to one side of the hay palate he had lain on, and he gathered them into his hakama once more. He scooped up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. He didn't want to attract attention.

His brain had shut down coldly. Already, it had formed a plan of action. He would go into town. Find any information on Kase. Somehow, he was going to find Kase. When he did, when Kase was safe, Ken was going to do the only acceptable thing left for him to do and commit seppuku. And even though he didn't deserve it, maybe Kase would stand as second for him Maybe…If he could even bring himself to ask such a favor.

As if in a daze, Ken staggered from the shack and into the rain, not even feeling the cold or the wet. It matted his hair to his forehead and soaked through the wool blanket around his shoulders. His already filthy and torn hakama dragged through the mud churned up as he walked. And he murmured. Softly, to himself, reassuringly, so that he could walk, take one step at a time. Find Kase. And then he could finally end this nightmare. He was going to find Kase, and then he was just going to let himself go. It was the honorable thing to do. The honorable thing….

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fujimiya Ran sat sulking in a corner of the Fujiyama Inn. He scowled at anyone who even glanced his way. The rain had slowed his progress considerably, and as a result his mood had fallen into the gutter. The sake he drank seemed to do nothing but keep it there. Adding to his foul mood was the news about the neighboring village that had been completely obliterated. He'd gone this morning to see it, and had almost been sick. He'd hoped to find some survivors to talk to, find out what had happened and how. But one look at the charred bodies scattered around had told him that there simply _weren't_ any survivors. This in turn had told him that someone had gone to great lengths to ensure that there wouldn't _be_ any survivors. A few well placed questions and remarks helped him put things together. He was dead sure the village had been deliberately eliminated once he'd discovered that it was a ninja clan who'd had loyalty ties towards the recently uprooted emperor's court. Ran had been so angry then he'd hardly been able to think. When the rain had come in, he'd decided to stay at the inn and perhaps help to bury the bodies later. And now, here he was, drinking sake and staring down anyone who tried to approach him. He wanted to be left alone.

He was so tired of watching the Shogunate fuck with people's lives, so they could bring about their 'peaceful vision of the future'. It was just their way of covering up the fact that they were getting all of their opponents out of the way, and it was a horrible injustice that Ran knew all too well. Innocent people were being killed and ruined to ensure that the Shogunate had absolute power. He should know. They'd done it to him too.

Ran clamped down ruthlessly on the memories of his family; of Aya-chan. Remembering them right now would only make things worse and possibly shake his common sense loose. And Ran had no intention of loosing his cool until he'd finished his life's mission. Since that mission was rather long and complicated, he had a long time to practice reining his temper in.

The bar keep had been staring at him in open suspicion since he'd come downstairs and skulked over to a corner to drink. Ran wanted to punch his face in, but settled for blatantly ignoring him instead. He hated the fact that simply because he had been forced to become a ronin people now looked at him like he was going to attack them for no reason. Sometimes, he was tempted to do just that…

He was startled from his dark thoughts by a sudden, collective hush that fell over the room. He looked up to see a figure standing near the doorway, soaked and bedraggled. His head was down and his shoulders were slumped with a variety of emotions Ran couldn't begin to comprehend at the moment. Slowly, as if realizing he'd wandered into a building, he lifted his head and gazed around with glazed, dead eyes. They roved the room emptily, as if searching for someone, and Ran started at the intense fire that lit in them when they settled on _him_. More specifically, his red hair. Suddenly the man stood straight up, posture erect and stiff, and he strode purposefully towards Ran; rain-soaked hakama dragging behind him with a soft _hiss hiss_ on the worn tatami floor. All eyes in the room traced his movements with shock, waiting to see what he would do.

Ran himself waited in anticipation, wondering what on earth a drunken lunatic wanted with _him_ particularly, and braced himself for a fight. His hand sought and found the hilt of his wakezashi, and he held it delicately, at the ready for any attack. A cold, furious recognition burned in the newcomer's eyes as he simply stopped a foot from where Ran sat and glowered down at him. Ran rose slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, and faced him. He was relieved to find that he was a bit taller than the stranger, although that didn't necessarily mean anything. It still felt good to have to make the man look up to meet his gaze slightly.

"Can I help you?" he asked coldly.

"That's all you have to say?! 'Can I help you!!?'" the stranger mocked, his voice rasping and weak; inconsistent. It made Ran frown. He sounded more like an invalid than a drunk lunatic. He wondered what on earth this man could possibly want from him, and waited silently to find out, a foreboding feeling in his gut.

"I see. Then if you won't tell me what you've done with him I'm going to beat it out of you, you fucking _dog_." the man hissed in fury. Ran started. Anger was one thing, humiliation was another. This man had picked the wrong day to pick a fight with Fujimiya Ran. Before he could act, however, he was startled to find a fist down across his cheek. He was even further startled to find that despite his unprepared-ness, he was still standing. A punch like that while he was caught off-guard should have leveled him. Was this guy for real? What the hell was he playing at? Why was he insisting on trying to humiliate Ran in front of an inn full of people who disliked him already?! When the man lunged for him again, Ran simply dodged and brought his sword hilt to connect with the man's gut experimentally. He wanted to get a feel for this man's skill and speed.

He was more than shocked at the loud cry of pain. When he looked down into his opponent's face, he saw surprise and a sudden guilt there, mixed with what appeared to be very real pain.

"C-crap….wrong….guy…..s-sorry…" The man coughed up a substantial amount of blood and fell forward, unconscious into Ran's chest. Ran blinked and stared down at the man he'd caught in his arms in surprise, as everyone else in the room did. After it was clear that he wasn't going to be awakening any time in the near future, they soon returned reluctantly to whatever drinks or meals they had forgotten, the air already buzzing with gossip. Ran cast another glower around the room to be sure everyone's attention was diverted again.

"Take care of that Fujimiya." the barkeep growled, like Ran had invited the man into the inn to attack him and cause a scene. Ran elected to ignore him again, instead lowering both himself and his burden onto the zabuton and leaning the man against the wall gently to check him over. He'd coughed up a lot of blood, and Ran was feeling guilty for wounding someone who'd obviously been no match for him so seriously. In the name of the Gods, he'd only given him a nudge in the gut with a sword hilt. That sort of thing was painful, but not enough to elicit blood. His hands froze in the middle of lifting the blanket as he caught sight of a substantially bandaged stomach and torn, bloodied hakama.

This man had _already_ been hurt. Badly. And Ran had a feeling that it had a lot to do with the empty, burned out village close by. It would certainly help to make the man's last comment make a bit more sense. Who apologized after a display like that, wrong or not? Carefully, he lowered the blanket back into place and cast a discreet glance around to be sure no one had seen him. The stranger's head slid down the wall and fell unceremoniously onto Ran's shoulder. The heat from his skin seeped through the thick fabric of his gi. This man had a fever. But _someone_ had tended to him. Whoever that person was, they obviously either hadn't bothered keeping an eye on him, he had snuck out on them (which Ran couldn't imagine this man being able to pull off in his state. ), or had simply left him to his own. In any of those cases, Ran somehow had a feeling that if this man was not residing in the home of a doctor, or beneath a doctor's care, there was a good reason. The fact that there was no news of any survivors furthered this reasoning. Ran would have bet that any survivors would have been the center of all kinds of attention. He sighed as he realized the man was also soaked. He was going to have to do _something_, and as upset as he was about the sacking of that village, he did _not_ want to be saddled with an invalid. It would slow him down immeasurably.

He was quite startled and understandably unnerved when a young woman slipped onto the zabuton across from him reeking of the fish and salt of a harbor. When his suspicious glower met her eyes, she took a deep breath and bowed formally, surprising him for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

"I'm sorry if he's been any trouble to you. He's hurt and with fever. I take the blame for any damage he has caused. I'll take him off your hands now." she murmured quietly, glancing around and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Ran only frowned.

"What happened to him?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Please just give him to me."

"And how were you planning on getting him out of here?" he mocked, raising an eyebrow. Anger flushed her cheeks a rosy red and had her eyes sparking at him.

"I'll _manage_." she ground out. Truthfully, she didn't know _how_ she'd manage, but every minute that he was out in the open was dangerous for both him and herself. She cast another nervous glance around.

"He came right at me and punched me." Ran pushed. Not so much because he was indignant, but to see what information he could push her into giving up. He was rewarded when the spark in her gaze ignited into flame.

"_Excuse_ me?? He's _sick_ and delusional with _fever_ for the Gods' sake! Can't you just let it go!? He's got it bad enough as it is! " she hissed at him.

"What. Happened. To. Him?" Ran ground out.

Her eyes suddenly switched from angry to pleading.

"_Please_, stop asking that. Just let it go ok? If you're that mad, then hit me instead, but _please_, just let me get him out of here. You don't understand. Every minute he stays out here makes everything that much worse…" she trailed off. Ran stared at her , and then looked down at the man slumped against him, frowning thoughtfully. So obviously, someone wanted this man. Why? Who was he?

"Who's chasing him?" he growled, changing the subject. She blanched.

"No one, as far as I know. But if you don't let me get him somewhere peaceful so he can recover, he just might make a few _more_ enemies." It wasn't a complete lie anyways, Yuriko thought. Ran stared hard at her.

"You aren't going to be taking him anywhere, even if you _had_ the means." when she opened her mouth to argue, he pressed on before she could even draw a breath. "Moving him any distance now would be a bad idea. I…hit him in the gut with my sword hilt and he coughed up a lot of blood." He admitted reluctantly, suddenly unable to meet her gaze. "Added to that, he's got a fever and he's soaked and cold. You can't drag him out into the rain like this. He'll die." He continued, scowling at the tabletop.

The woman's eyes spit fire. "You _hit_ an injured man!?" she hissed, visibly almost loosing the battle to keep her voice lowered. Ran scowled at her. "I didn't _know_ he was injured when he flew at me and bulldozed his fist into my _face_." he growled. "It was self defense." She glared at him skeptically.

"A man looks that pathetic and you don't pick up that he could be injured or sick?" she asked incredulously. Ran glared hard. "Funny, I wasn't the only one. He looked like a drunk bum." he ground out. He didn't need this. He was already feeling guilty for hitting an invalid. She huffed and looked away.

"I…I have to risk getting him out of here. I don't have a choice. It's too dangerous for him to be running all over the place like this." she said slowly. Ran shook his head.

"No. You can't. He _will_ die." Then, surprising _himself_, he heard himself say "I'll take him up to my room, and we'll keep him there until he's stable enough to move." when she looked ready to argue, he fixed her with a frosty glare. "Obviously you couldn't take care of him anyway, if he's here. I'll be able to keep an eye on him in my room. I don't have any work to do at the moment." he pressed on in clipped, cold tones. Her mouth thinned into an angry line, but she said nothing.

"If you want him, you'll have to take him and manage to get him away from me." he continued. He understood her concern, and her heart was certainly in the right place, but he had a feeling that this man needed a bit of a stronger and less occupied protection. Especially if someone was looking for him.

"Since you're giving me no choice, his name is Ken. I'm Yuriko. My male friend will be here tomorrow. I'm sending him to your doorstep. If anything happens to Ken, you had better believe he'll skin you alive." she threatened. "And I'm at least helping you get him settled." Ran smiled at her grimly, more a bearing of his teeth than anything, and said nothing, wondering how he'd wound up forcefully putting an invalid under his care when moments ago he'd wanted to avoid it. He told himself it had everything to do with the fact that Ken was yet another victim of the Shogunate and nothing to do with the strange feelings he got when he looked at the fevered brunette leaning against him. Of course. He'd injured this man further. He would help him recover, assure the Shogunate couldn't slaughter him, and then wash his hands of the whole thing.

He had another strange feeling that those plans would get complicated before the week was out as Yuriko helped him heft Ken into his arms and the barkeep glared at them as he staggered upstairs, Yuriko helping to balance out Ken's dense weight. And this was to say nothing of this '_male friend_' Yuriko had mentioned. More headaches. He really didn't need this shit. He needed to work on getting his mouth to check up with his brain first before speaking.

It was going to be a long night, he decided.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SinceKen was unconscious, he was adjusted rather quickly. Yuriko left Ran with a stern glare and a rather large cloth full of every medicinal item he could have ever thought of. She also left him with an extra blanket.

Once she had left, Ran set about checking the young man and getting him out of his wet belongings. He started with the wool blanket, heaving it across the room and onto the entry way floor in disgust. It landed with loud thump and a dull splat, probably ruined for good. In this sort of weather, it was going to mildew rather quickly.

Next came the torn, dirty hakama. Ran peeled them back gingerly, having no desire to let his hands touch the filth and blood clinging to the material. He hung those carefully in the closet. Why, he wasn't sure, but he had a feeling that Ken wouldn't be happy waking and discovering the last stitch of clothing he owned to be gone. Ran knew if it had been himself he certainly wouldn't have appreciated it. Beneath the cloth were the bandages and the bruised, battered skin. He studied the body before him as he listened to the uneven, ragged breathing. Ken's body shivered beneath his hands with cold and fever, and Ran turned to build up the fire in the small hibachi he'd ordered up to the room upon his arrival. He needed to check Ken quickly and then get him covered and warm. And he needed a compress for the fever. He also needed hot water for a bath. There was no way he was going to be able to drag Ken down to the Ofuro. Covering Ken momentarily, he crawled to the door and slid it open, bellowing for a maid. One showed up reluctantly.

"I need hot water and clean cloth for bathing. I also need tea and broth." he informed her curtly, not bothering to waste formalities. She nodded and then closed the door, and he heard her footsteps hurrying off down the hall. Within, he turned back to Ken and set about removing the bandages since they were now wet and grimy and needed to be replaced. He noted that whoever had wrapped them had obviously had considerable experience in doing so. Ken had been tended almost professionally.

When the first and most daunting set came away from the brunette's abdomen, Ran winced in sympathy. His guilt at having hit Ken assailed him full force. There was a dark, discolored bruise that had spread angrily over the man's stomach, still painfully swollen, no doubt no thanks to his sword hilt. Running along his left side was a thin red gash that connected his ribs and his hip. There were other, smaller bruises that looked just as painful but not quite so alarming.

The bandage on the right shoulder revealed a deep stab wound that had exited out the back rather cleanly, much to his releif. The bandage on Ken's chest revealed another stab wound. Judging by the ragged ends of the wound that had been sewn shut and the swelling and bruising, Ran guessed that the blade had somehow been twisted or wrenched, and he curled his lip in anger at the though of such a dishonorable cruelty. At least the shoulder wound looked cleaner, although there was another dark angry bruise and a considerable amount of swelling around it. Taking a deep breath, he turned the man over and examined the wound that ran like a slash from the right shoulder to the left thigh, and hissed a breath in sympathy. Nearly all of it had been stitched shut. Definitely more than one attacker. Definitely a dishonorable attack. Definitely the possibility that whoever had done it would come back if they found out Ken was still alive. Ran didn't like this at all.

He was startled from his thoughts by a slight rapping on the door.

"Come in." he barked. A young maid slid the door open and entered after bowing and excusing herself. She bore a tray of hot tea and a bowl of what he guessed to be broth along with a bowl of rice. Another, older woman followed her bearing a large tub of hot water, and several cloths flung over one shoulder. They put their burdens where he indicated and then stood aside, casting curious glances over Ken's prone form and then blushing at his nudity. Ran noticed with an inner, bitter leer that this didn't prevent them from continuing to stare. He dismissed them with a nod of his head and an icy "Thanks." before they could ask any questions. When the door slid shut quietly behind them, Ran set to work gently bathing Ken's wounds and applying salve to them before re-bandaging him with fresh bandages. He bound Ken's stomach with several strips of torn linen he found in the cloth sack Yuriko had left in hopes of possibly easing some of the pain and swelling. Ken groaned as he tightened them and tied them in place, but didn't stir.

He ran a comb through Ken's short, tangled hair, and fanned it out as best he could in the hopes that it would dry faster. Finally, he soaked a cloth in the hot water and folded it into a compress, laying it on Ken's forehead gently in hopes of aiding the fever in breaking. He studied the bruising pattern that danced along the man's temple with a frown. No doubt he was concussed as well. Ran would have to be sure to wake him frequently. Pulling the wool blankets back up and adding the extra one Yuriko had left, Ran sat beside the futon, his sword resting against one shoulder, and watched as Ken shivered and slept. He was still wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into when his own eyes slid closed in exhaustion.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Poor Kenken. He's in good hands now...sigh :)

WAI! And there you have it. Boy is Ranny in deep do-do. He has no idea. ::giggle:: Stay tuned for our next exciting episode! Same Weiss time, same Weiss channel!!!

How was it? How was Ran?? He's a nice little Ronin, isn't he?? . He's certainly hard enough to write...

Ok, the next chapter will be up as soon as I have time!!! Thanks so much for reading! Ja na!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	7. The cross we bear

So I'm back! Yay! I will be in the office today and Monday, so hopefully I'll get some chapters in asap!!! We do what we can!

Hmm, ok. Not many notes this time. There isn't much that will need to be clarified I hope. Just Ran. And Ken. And bonding. Here we go!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Chapter 4B**

"_Long shadows –  
crow with broken wing  
keeps its distance"_

_Richard Stevenson_

_**Edo**_

Ken woke up once again to unfamiliar surroundings. He blinked in the pale light of dawn pushing through water-stained shoji and found himself staring up at a ceiling run through with beams of cedar wood. Frowning in confusion, he slowly tried to push himself up into a sitting position, and found he could not. His arms trembled weakly, and one of them was wracked with electric waves of pain that ran from his neck, over his shoulder, to the tips of his fingers and back again. He swallowed over the rock that was in his throat and tried turning his head experimentally. It worked, although it caused him an almost unbearable amount of pain. Straightening carefully, he frowned at the ceiling once more.

So what had happened then? This was becoming a disturbing pattern in his life; waking up without knowing where he was or what had happened. The last thing he remembered was…waking up in that shack. Right. He'd grabbed his weapons, and went to find Kase. Ken's heart lurched painfully in his chest at the thought of Kase. He shoved the feeling down and refused to acknowledge it until he had some sort of reasonable explanation for what had happened.

So what next? He remembered pulling the blanket over his shoulders, and brief snatches of wandering around…town? He couldn't be sure. There had been people at some point, he remembered that much. They had given him a wide berth.It had been raining. Hard. He remembered stumbling into…into…some kind of place. He remembered that it was darker and out of the rain and full of people. People who'd stared at him.

A pang of embarrassment filled his gut as he remembered trying to attack some random stranger because all he'd seen was the man's red hair. He'd remembered the red hair of the foreigner that had taken Kase, and hadn't thought twice about it until he'd seen the man's eyes. They had been a startling violet, and _not_ the cool jade green that he'd remembered seeing on the man who had taken Kase. He'd meant to apologize, and wondered if it had gotten out of his mouth in time before he'd passed out.

Ken released another sigh and tried to move again. This time, sharp pains from all over his body flared together in brilliant symphony and Ken cried out in pain before falling back to the mattress with a groan and laying very, very still. He concentrated only on breathing. It was all he could have hoped to think about.

"Awake already?" a bland voice intoned from somewhere beside him. Ken jumped and regretted the knee-jerk reaction immediately as he winced in the oncoming wave of fresh pain. Suddenly a pale, cool hand was on his forehead, and he was surprised to find how quickly it soothed the heat trapped within. He hadn't realized his head had ached so until now.

"You should rest more, you aren't nearly ready to be up and about." there was a frown in that voice. Ken forced his head to turn so he could look up at the speaker. He was proud of himself for managing to do it with relative ease. Red hair, violet eyes, and pale skin greeted his somewhat dim vision. It was the man he'd attacked yesterday. Ken was assailed with a sudden guilt. The man must have read it in his expression, for he released a low chuckle.

"Even for an injured man you've got quite a right hook." he said softly. "Although I don't think I've ever met an opponent who apologizes after striking me and then passes out on the first hit." Ken frowned crossly.

"Hey, it wasn't like I _meant_ to strike you!" he growled weakly. One crimson eyebrow rose in sarcastic question.

"Ok, so I mistook you for someone else. But I was after that someone else, not you!--" he wanted to say more but he found himself coughing and then panting, a horrible weight in his chest constricting his lung capacity. He coughed experimentally once again and groaned as fire seared his chest and throat. Suddenly there was the feeling of cool, moist pottery against his lips and he felt himself gently lifted from the futon into a sitting position.

"Drink." it was a simple command that Ken was delighted to obey. The water was cool and felt good, easing the ache in his throat. When he could breathe a little easier, he closed his eyes blissfully for a moment before opening them to focus on his caretaker once more. He asked the first question that popped into his head.

"Why are you taking care of me?" Red eyebrows arched in slight surprise.

"Because you passed out in my arms." he replied easily. Ken's face flushed redder for a moment beneath his embarrassment.

"So? You could have dumped me out in the street. I punched you across the face for no good reason." he shot back evenly, still embarrassed and feeling guilty. The man gave him an incredulous look.

"You think I was going to throw an injured, fevered man out into the gutter? During a rainstorm no less?" he sounded insulted. Ken shrugged, the action muffled by the many blankets lying atop him.

" I would have deserved it." he said quietly, looking at the wall beside him instead of at the stranger. A heavy silence followed. Finally, the man spoke.

"Why would you have deserved something like that? You didn't even knock me over with that punch. And you apologized even as you were passing out. I don't even have a bruise." Ken snorted, still refusing to turn his gaze away from the wall.

"You don't know me. You don't know what I've done. You should have just thrown me back out onto the street." he mumbled quietly. He was startled when he felt a cool touch on his fevered skin and felt his head being turned to face the man who'd taken care of him. He found himself looking into an intense violet gaze.

"Try me." was all the man said. His voice sounded angry. Ken frowned and tried to look away, but the man wouldn't let him. He felt the corners of his eyes burning and tried to twist his head away again as he felt the tears build. Gods he was so ashamed. He didn't want to have to look at this stranger and deal with his own colossal failings while he cried like a little girl. The stranger, however, was not willing to budge, and Ken was forced to remain still or hurt himself further. Silence settled like a heavy blanket around them, and Ken felt himself getting sucked into the man's gaze against his will. He was lost somewhere between white, hot pain and clear, cool amethyst when the stranger spoke again, startling him.

"What happened to you?" the voice was cool and calm, and it seemed to somehow wash over his mind and sooth. There was no pity, but there was no disgust. Only calm collection. Ken forgot his head hurt.

"They-they destroyed my clan. My _family_. Somehow, they surprised us. Everyone is dead." even his own voice sounded dead. "Except, of course, for me." the final statement was one of self-accusation, its tone bitter and hopeless. His voice sounded hollow, like the voice of another man. Surely he could not speak of his clan so emptily? Of his failings? It hurt him so much to talk about. To even think about it tore at every fiber of his being. How could his voice sound so empty? "It was my fault. I-I should have known; I should have been more careful. There must have been _something_…" he trailed off, his voice weak and breaking; hoarse with fever and pain. The stranger did not negate or accuse. He only pressed on calmly, forcing Ken's gaze to meet his own. The man still had his chin in a firm grip.

"Who did?"

Ken hesitated. "I-I don't know. Th-they were foreign men. One of them had red hair; like yours." a small, eerie smile flitted across his face as if towards some inner twisted humor. "I wounded one man. With white hair. It was so white, you know? Like snow on the mountains. I hope he bled to death. They took Kase." the last few sentences were delivered with a viciousness that brought a sudden strength into Ken's voice. He hoped sincerely that what little damage he had managed to inflict on those men had caused them great amounts of suffering. He missed the light of recognition that appeared suddenly in violet depths.

"These men. Were there four of them?"

"Yes. And Kase. They took him. I have to find Kase. " Panic was slowly working its way into Ken's voice. This time, when he tried to sit up, he managed it with great effort. He turned and gave the stranger an odd look, as if suddenly remembering he was in the room. The man frowned and pushed him back down with ease.

"Find him later. You're in no shape to do it now." he said firmly. Ken struggled against the hand that pressed him to the futon weakly. Fire exploded in his chest and he arched against it, moaning loudly with the pain.

"You don't…understand…I have to find him. I have to…I can't let them…hurt him…can't…" Ken lost his voice, coughing. Above him, he missed Ran's frown.

"Perhaps it is _you_ who does not understand. You are in no condition to even sit up, let alone search for this _Kase_, and fight his captors. If they have escaped you once, you are not in condition to fight them until you heal. Cease struggling now unless you wish to cause yourself more pain." To Ran's utter and complete surprise, he stopped struggling. Ken lay beneath his hand, panting and still. Ran could feel the erratic beat of his heart beneath hot, clammy skin. Finally, after a few moments of tense silence, Ken's soft mummur came almost like a blow.

"You're right of course. Gods, I'm such an idiot. How could I have thought…?" Ken shook his head absently, a bitter smile of self hate twisting itself onto his handsome face. His voice was full of misery and venom. Ran frowned, not understanding what Ken was getting at, and suddenly not liking the direction this conversation was taking.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll never reach him in time. They'll have killed him already…Even if they don't, I won't be able to save him before they do….Gods Kase, I'm so sorry. " Ken turned his head, and Ran suddenly found himself sunk into warm brown depths tinted with such grief and self-hatred he had to hold in his shock.

"Kill me. Please." This time, Ran didn't bother to hide his surprise.

"Pardon me?"

"I said kill me. Please just do it. If you won't, I'll do it myself. Although it'll probably be messier."Ran's brain worked furiously to trace the connections in their conversation and figure out what the hell had triggered this rather morbid turn-of-mood. How on earth had they gone from discussing Ken needing to rest to this matter-of-fact discussion of ending this man's life so quickly?

'_Although it'll probably be messier._' Ran shuddered and looked back at Ken. Brown eyes still full of those intense emotions looked at him determinatley. The pain in them took his breath away. Ran wondered if this was what _he_ had looked like when he had come home that last night. When he had seen his house and his family. He didn't think he'd ever seen that kind of raw emotion just sitting in the open for anyone to read. It was so rare in a society like the one he lived in. And usually it was accompanied by drunkenness. Who _was_ this man? Without hesitation, Ran gave him an answer.

"No." Ken didn't even blink. It was as if he'd been expecting that response.

"I understand. You don't want to taint your sword. I'll do it myself then. Where are my weapons?" Ken tried to move to get up, but Ran kept him pinned; not that it was difficult. His gaze bore into Ken's intensly and the young man stopped struggling, brown depths beginning to fill withtraces of confusion and curiosity.

Ran was confused; he was _very_ confused, and a terrible fear was beginning to work its way into his chest. He didn't like this. He had never dealt with this kind of want for honorable suicide before. He'd _never_ had the desire to do such a thing himself. What the hell inspired others to be so rash and wasteful? _Why_? His stomach turned, anger suddenly fighting for domination of his fear. Takatori. Always it was Takatori. How could one man be capable of ruining so many innocent lives? First, Ran's own family. Then, an entire village. And now, this one soul; the only survivor, who was ready to give in so easily. No. Ran was absolutely not going to allow the Shogunate; no, _Takatori_, to take another decent soul from this plane. He found himself wondering again, wondering about his father. Was this what his father had been like when he had done it? When he had murdered his wife and daughter? When he had written that final letter to his only son? When he had…

Without thinking, Ran grabbed the injured man by the shoulders and shook him once. "Don't you dare!" he roared blindly. "Don't you _dare_ do that to me! Don't you let him win!" Ken grunted in pain and Ran froze like a deer before a hunter's arrow. Scowling darkly in self-anger, he set a now bewildered looking Ken gently back against the futon, peeling back some of the larger bandages to see if he had caused any damage in his stupidity. He was relieved to find none. Although he had probably caused Ken a good amount of pain. He winced internally and turned to look at Ken's face. The self-hatred that had occupied it moments ago was now completely gone. In its place was an almost child-like expression of curiosity.

"Let who win?" Ken asked, raising one dark-brown eyebrow. A slight blush chased over Ran's cheeks and he turned to look out the window, scowling when he found the shoji blocking his view and making it clear he was trying to hide his embarrassment. He was about to bite out that it was none of Ken's business when his mind was suddenly full of that self-hating expression in warm brown eyes. Scowling deeper as he thought better of it, he instead grated it out an irritated reply. Maybe if he gave Ken someone else to hold responsible..?

"Takatori, who else?"

"Takatori? That Daimyo? Isn't he pretty high on Shogun-sama's favorites list? What's he got to do with this?" a measure of suspicion was working its way into Ken's tone. Ran's eye was practically twitching at the mention of _shogun_ and _sama_ spoken in consecutive order.

"Unless I miss my guess." he ground out, and turned from the shoji to pin Ken with an irate glare. He regretted it minutely when the man flinched beneath his gaze. "Takatori is behind the attack on your village. The men you described; what little you described of them, sound like the men he's hired as body-guards." Ken's expression went from curious and unsure to outright rage in about a half second flat. He shot upright without seeming to make the slightest effort, and leaned towards Ran.

"You _know_ who's responsible for slaughtering my—my—_clan_?" he choked, leaning forward to grab the collar of Ran's gi. Ran frowned in disapproval and disengaged Ken's fingers none-too gently.

"I don't _know_ for sure. It's only a guess. I wasn't there. You're going to have to describe those men to me. In either case, _I_ didn't attack your clan, so you'd better watch who you're taking your temper out on. Once was acceptable as a mistake; I won't be so forgiving if you do it again." he growled. Ken blanched and suddenly leaned back, looking down at his lap. The fight seemed to drain from him suddenly and Ran watched as his wounded shoulder began to tremble beneath the strain he had put on it. Here and there, splotches of crimson were beginning to bloom against the white of the bandages. Ran was going to have to terminate this conversation soon; it was proving to be ill for Ken's health.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just--, I can't—" here Ran cut him off, gently pressing pale fingers against his lips.

"Killing yourself is not an honorable way to revenge your clan. Or to even honor your clan. If you're here, they probably made some kind of sacrifice for you to be. The least you can do for them is stop this sort of thing from happening to others. The force that wrecked your village is most likely Takatori. He is powerful, but he can still be over taken. Wait and rest. Plan. When you are ready, and he is not, strike. Do not run head long into battle and hope you will land a lucky hit. It is a waste of energy. And killing one's self is only a coward's way out."

Ken blinked at him. He swallowed heavily and then looked back down into his lap, watching his hands tremble as they clenched at the blankets in a detached manner. He didn't know what to think. Everything in his head was screaming at him to kill himself for the disgrace he was. But there was another part of him—that always optimistic part, that told him he could not turn his back on the clan and take a coward's way out. Which was, he realized, exactly what suicide meant. It was a poor excused to get out of his duty to his men ; to Takeshi and Ryuuta-kun. He frowned in disgust. An irritable sigh sounded somewhere beside him and this time Ken allowed himself to be lowered back to the futon gently, body trembling. The stranger's hands prodded his bandages carefully, checking his injuries. One pulled the blankets up to his chin while the other rested against his forehead. It stayed there, its cool presence soothing Ken while the two men sat in silence.

"Ran." when Ran felt Ken start in surprise beneath his hand, a slight smile turned up one corner of his mouth. Weary brown eyes blinked up at him questioningly. He studied the worn and scratched tatami beside the futon.

"My name is Fujimiya Ran. Takatori—" Ran bit his lip, unsure, but pressed on at the encouraging nod Ken gave him. "Takatori ruined my family. He killed them. I—I'm hunting him for revenge. I _will_ have it. I will have _blood_ for _blood_." he finished in a growl. He felt Ken nod again beneath his hand. When he looked down, he wasn't surprised to see that the man already had his eyes half closed, despite the now bright light of morning.

"Maybe we should work together. We'll be stronger. And stand more of a chance of defeating our enemy." he offered tentativley. At Ken's slightly surprised look, he frowned. "Unless you'd prefer to work on your own. But I'm not letting you go anywhere until you're healed." he grumbled, suddenly hating the way he felt so unsure. Hating the way he wanted this man's company; the way he still wanted to escape being by himself. He'd thought maybe if they were after the same goal…

"I'd be honored to work with you Fujimiya-san. I just—are you sure you want to work with someone as burdensome as me?" there was such gratitude in the man's voice that Ran stopped and stared at him. And then he frowned.

"Unless you plan on being an invalid forever or trying to kill yourself, you won't be a '_burden'_ for long." he grumbled. And the reward would hopefully be someone who was capable of taking a good deal of the burden of finding and eliminating Takatori and his servants from Ran's shoulders. It was a burden Ran bore gladly, but if he had someone to share his load with, then perhaps he would stand that much more of a chance of reaching his goal.

"I'll do my best Fujimiya-san…" Ran turned to tell the man not to call him by his last name, but found Ken's eyes shut, the man already fast asleep. Sighing to himself, he re-soaked another compress and turned towards the cloth sack to find some acceptable poultices and teas. Ken was going to be a valuable asset in his quest to eliminate Takatori, and he wasn't going to let the man leave his sight. If Ken was so important that Takatori had had his entire village eliminated, there had to be a reason. Ran was determined to find it out. And maybe, in some deep part of himself, Ran wanted to spare another human soul the suffering his had been through. Maybe if Ken wasn't alone, if they weren't alone together, it would make the horrors of the past easier to bear.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yohji was scowling darkly as he rode off to the Fujiyama Inn. It figured. It bloody well figured. He'd been gone for only one evening, and his luck had decided to run out Not only had Ken run off on him, but he'd managed to attack someone, and wind up beneath that person's "_care_". Manx was not going to be happy with him. And if anything had happened to Ken, Yohji was going to be in double trouble. Poor Yuriko. She'd looked so guilty. As if she could have stood up to a ronin armed with a sword. Right. He'd reassured her as best he could, but then he'd had to hurry off to make sure that Ken was going to be ok. Thank Buddha today had been one of those days that he'd managed to be up and about early.

He came to a barreling stop at the Inn's entrance, handing his reins off to a servant who'd stood at ready when they had caught sight of Yohji's fine clothing. He threw open the doors and slipped out of his shoes and onto the ancient polished wood floors in one fluid movement. The deep blue silk of his kimono fluttered around him gracefully, adding to his prestigious appearance. Without delay, he headed towards the barkeep, intent on finding out who had Ken.

He was stopped, however, mid-stride by a young man who appeared from nowhere and thumped him on the back rather heartily. "Masaki, you old devil! Where the hell have you _been_!? It's been _ages_ since I've last seen you!" So saying, he steered Yohji over to a table at the back of the Inn.

Yohji let himself be steered. He hated to admit that he didn't know if he should be grateful or fearful of the fact that Kritiker's agents were already here. He sat cautiously, a companionable expression on his face as he ordered hot sake from the passing waitress. Without any preamble, the young man across from him leaned forward, a scar marring one side of his handsome face.

"He wandered in here late yesterday afternoon and attacked a ronin sitting in the corner. After that, a woman showed up and argued with the ronin for a bit before they both took the ninja upstairs; presumably to the ronin's room. The young woman was certain you'd be by to check on the ninja this morning." he finished with a slight smirk. Yohji nodded.

"Yeah, and so I am. What's going on now?"

"As it turns out, Kritiker's also been tailing the ronin for some time. Name's Fujimiya Ran. His father killed his wife and daughter and then committed suicide over some kind of scandal. Ran's been wandering around since then looking for any means of revenge." Here Yohji nodded again and leaned forward.

"What does Kritiker want to do now, _Botan_?" he asked in a low voice. The man across from him smirked.

"Right now, they don't want to do anything. We're going to tail the two kids and see what happens. This gives Kritiker an excellent means of observing them further to determine what kind of people they are." Botan leaned back, taking another shot of sake with him. Across from him, Yohji leaned forward further, and frowned. The waitress came and left, her presence unaknowledged with the exception that Yohji poured himself a shot of hot sake.

"How long do they plan to wait? If they wait too long, they'll lose him." Botan only shook his head.

"Long enough _Balinese_ long enough. Right now, you're going to go up there, and check on them, seeing as how your little lady friend gave you an excuse to. You will be the means of contact for Kritiker when it is needed between the ninja and our organization. As per orders of Manx herself." Yohji snorted to himself. _Lovely_.

"So then I take it I'll be busy upstairs this morning? Anything in particular I need to say or do?"

"Just check on the ninja; see how his health is, make sure the ronin isn't trying to kill him, although we're pretty sure that's not a risk. Poke around, see what you can find out, if anything. You know how it goes. He's in the last room on the left side at the end of the hall." Yohji nodded.

"Got it. I'm on my way boss." he tossed back the rest of his sake, regretting he'd only had one shot of a very fine bottle, and stood up, casting it a longing look.

"Don't worry, it's not going to waste." Botan informed him with a smirk, reaching for the mostly full bottle. Yohji scowled at him and he laughed. "You'll have plenty of time to throw some drinks back later. In the mean time, no drinking on the job." Yohji couldn't help but chuckle at the comment, remembering how much 'drinking on the job' he'd done last night. Judging by the light in Botan's eyes, he'd intended the comment to be sarcastic. Yohji sighed and shook his head.

"Sending me off to do all your grunt work while you sit here and drink _my_ sake…" he trailed off in mock irritation.

"Damn straight. Get to work, grunt." They exchanged another good-natured chuckle before Yohji turned and strode up the stairs, this time absent of the anger he had come in with.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tehe!! That's the end of 4B. Next to come: Yohji, meet Ran. Ran, Yohji. _Ding Ding_! (Okay boys, I want a clean shot all the way through and remember; come out _fighting_!) Err….Right. Anyway, Get ready for possessive Ran who's trying NOT to be possessive and a teasing Yohji who likes throwing it in Ran's face. Ahh, what fun! .

Thanks again to all of my reviewers. It's really spectacular that you're leaving comments. I really didn't think I'd get so many glowing remarks! I'm sorry I haven't responded to you all individually, but I'm trying to save time so I can update more chapters! Stick around 'cause the ride's just starting!! Ja na!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	8. Strangers

Hey again. Ok, so let's see…Just a couple quick notes:

First, in Japan, it is considered polite to only knock twice. Any more than that and it's considered rude. It's like an unspoken social rule, or something to that effect. I'm glad someone told me about it truthfully, or I might have been toast…

Second, if I haven't said anything about it before, let me just state here that it is absolutely taboo to NOT take your shoes off before entering a house or building. Of course, most modern buildings don't require you to do so, but most other places do. Also, there is specific etiquette for what foot gear you're supposed to wear (or not, incidentally) when. On tatami floors, usually only socks are acceptable. Sometimes bare feet (i.e. dojos, etc.) Do not ever walk on someone's tatami in your slippers, as I am quite sure that it's unacceptable. In someone's house, at an inn, or school, you ALWAYS wear slippers. And in some restaurants too, strangely enough. There's a really good Okonomiyaki (like a cross between a veggie and meat and other stuff omelette and pancake….tasty! You eat it right off the burner!) place that makes you take off your shoes. There are no exceptions to this. Believe me, I tried, cause slippers here prove to be dangerous to my health. They never stay on my feet and I'm always stumbling or slipping. It's also impolite not to use the slippers your host has laid out for you if they do lay slippers out. Although sometimes it's ok to bring your own. And you absolutely do NOT wear indoor shoes, socks, or slippers out of the house, etc. Ever. It's completely taboo. And God help you if you don't change into the toilet slippers, and nothing can save you if you wear said toilet slippers out of the bathroom cause you forgot to change. Seriously. ALWAYS REMEMBER TO CHANGE INTO AND OUT OF YOUR TOILET SLIPPERS…what a pain in the ass…

Ok, sorry if that was random. Rant done. On to the good stuff.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"_**Autumn deepens -**_

**_the man next door, what does he do_**

**_for a living?"_**

_Basho_

_**Edo**_

Yohji sauntered down the upstairs hallway at a leisurely pace, winking at a flustered looking maid as she hurried past. She blushed and averted her eyes, nearly tripping and falling down the stairs. He chuckled to himself and brushed an errant lock of dark brown hair behind one ear as he approached the door that supposedly belonged to one Fujimiya Ran. He knocked twice politely, and waited for a response.

The man who answered the door looked thoroughly irritated. Violet eyes beamed intensely in a pale face framed by crimson hair. The features were fine and perfectly set in an almost delicate kind of beauty, and Yohji found himself rather enjoying the view.

"I told you, I don't _need_ any—" the growl died on pale pink lips as he caught sight of Yohji standing in his doorway instead of whoever he had expected it to be. Yohji quirked one dark eyebrow in interest.

"Actually, I wasn't here to _give_ you any, but if you want to talk about that—" he crooned. The red head looked bewildered for a second before the full meaning of Yohji's sentence caught up with him. He promptly scowled murder at Yohji. Yohji only smirked and waved at him merrily.

"Who the hell are you?" Ran bit out, folding his hands into his maroon haori sleeves. He stood askance, eyeing Yohji with no small amount of suspicion and anger, using his full body to block the doorway and any view Yohji might have had of Ken. He didn't know much about Ran, but if the man was standing in defensive position at this stage in the game for Ken, Yohji liked him already.

"No one you need to worry yourself about. I was just coming to check up on a young man Yuriko left in your care?" he intoned smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest as well, although in a more casual manner, as he leaned against the doorway. Ran's eyes narrowed to slits, and he studied Yohji slowly, not bothering to mask his suspicion.

"What's he to you?" he growled out. Yohji raised an eyebrow.

"I found him, you know. And I _was_ taking care of him yesterday morning." This only seemed to upset Ran further. His scowl darkened.

"You did a fine job it too, seeing as how he wandered into a bar and punched the first man he saw." he growled. "What were you thinking leaving a sick and injured man alone?" the corners of Yohji's smile sagged downwards. He was starting to get irritated.

"I did what I could under the circumstances. I had a very important engagement to attend." Ran snorted but didn't say anything for a moment.

"Why do you want to see him? What do you care?" he finally growled. Yohji sighed dramatically.

"I want to see how he's _doing_. Why are you being so possessive?" he replied calmly, a smirk gracing his features as violet eyes widened and then narrowed.

"I'm not being possessive. I'm merely showing concern as the only one who's bothered to take decent care of him after he attacked me without provocation. He should have been under a doctor's care." Ran shot back. Yohji's smirk widened.

"Then why isn't he now?" Confusion flashed across stoic features and Yohji's smirk widened another centimeter, close to becoming a full-blown smile. Ran looked at a loss for words and he finally reached out and grabbed Yohji by the collar, pulling him in roughly and slamming the door shut behind them.

"Leave your shoes in the entryway." he grumbled, stalking over to sit in a defensive position on the floor beside a futon. Yohji noticed he had his sword at ready. Who the hell was this guy? He dropped his shoes casually in the entryway and slid across the worn tatami to sit directly across from Ran and next to the futon. Ran stiffened, but said nothing. Cautiously, Yohji peered at the blankets. He was rewarded with a glimpse of brown hair peeking above their hem. He smiled slightly despite himself. It appeared Ran was taking stellar care of Ken if the five or so blankets were any indication. Glancing around casually, he noticed the remnants of a bowl of broth, half eaten rice, several empty cups of what had probably been herbal tea, as well as several medicinal implements arranged neatly on the floor for easy access. Beside the futon was a large earthen mug full of water. Ran watched him with barley contained anger the entire time.

"Well?" he finally growled out. Yohji offered him a cheeky smile.

"I see you're taking excellent care of him." he said amiably. Ran snorted as if insulted and said nothing, turning his gaze to the figure snoozing beside them. Yohji sat comfortably in the silence, waiting to see what would happen. He wasn't disappointed.

"When he…punched me…I…" the slightest flinch came over Ran's features. "I got him right in the gut with my sword hilt. I—didn't know he was injured at the time." he mumbled. Ahh. Yohji raised an eyebrow. Feeling guilty was he? All this over a little guilt? It seemed a bit farfetched to Yohji.

"It was an understandable mistake. He must have looked like a bum." Ran nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. Yohji was willing to bet he had expected some kind of confrontation over that admittance. Perhaps this man took things far more gravely than most. He certainly looked like the type.

"You've done a pretty good job. I'll take him off your hands now so you don't

have to worry about it. Sorry he was so much trouble to you." he pressed on. He had no intention of taking Ken, but he knew Ran wouldn't have let him anyway. Yet again, Ran didn't disappoint. The red head scowled at Yohji full force and his sword arm stiffened.

"Absolutely not. I won't leave him in your care. He'll wind up dead or worse." Yohji swallowed the insult, allowing enough of it to hit that it painted his face in insulted irritation.

"Will you stop saying that already? It couldn't be helped I told you. I couldn't leave him with a doctor!" he snapped out. Ran suddenly became quiet.

"He's in trouble, isn't he? You couldn't take him to a doctor because you don't want him to be found. Why?" he asked softly. Yohji's eyebrows raised in surprise. Smart too huh?

"Yeah. You could say that. I don't know if he's in trouble. But I figured that if no one else survived that attack on the village, there was a reason. So I figured to keep him hidden just to be safe." he replied. Ran nodded in understanding. He looked up suddenly and eyed Yohji sharply.

"What were you doing that you found him?" he growled. Yohji's eyes widened fractionally before a lazy grin spread across his face.

" Why, going for a walk in the woods, of course." at Ran's somewhat baffled, irritated expression, Yohji leaned forward conspiratorially and gave Ran a Cheshire cat's grin. "It's a wonderful place to explore the pleasures of the flesh, you know. Romance and moonlight and all." He murmured huskily. A blush bloomed across Ran's cheeks without his consent and he jerked back as if burned. His expression melted into one of disgusted anger.

"There's no way I'm sending Ken off with an irresponsible pervert." he ground out. Yohji let loose a loud laugh and leaned back again, eyes twinkling.

"You are far too easy to rile. And too much fun as well. Although I will insist on taking Ken. He's my responsibility after all." the blankets on the futon moved sluggishly, and a muffled voice moaned. Ran glared death at Yohji before turning towards the futon's occupant, and pulling the covers back gently.

Ken still looked fevered and in bad condition, but even considering these things, he looked much better than when Yohji had last seen him. The bandages were crisp and white, and the coloring on the bruises was just starting to turn, indicating the start of the healing process. Inwardly, Yohji nodded in satisfaction. This man really had done a stupendous job.

Ran behaved as if Yohji was not in the room. With great care, he lifted Ken onto one arm and levered him into a partially sitting position. Ken's head lolled and came to rest against Ran's stomach, and brown eyes fluttered momentarily before he moaned again. Ran reached down and pulled up a smaller mug full of water that Yohji hadn't seen before. He pressed it to Ken's dry lips and tilted it slightly.

"Drink, Ken." he commanded softly. Ken grunted and his head turned slightly, trying to avoid the cup. Ran sighed in irritation. "Ken. It's water, not tea. I promise. You need it. It's going to make you feel better. Drink." This time, when Ran pressed the cup to Ken's lips, they opened eagerly, and brown eyes opened the slightest bit to study Ran's face with a fevered vacancy. When he finished and Ran seemed satisfied that he had drank enough, he set the cup aside. Gently, he lowered Ken back onto the futon and peeled back the various bandages, checking the wounds. When he had satisfied himself with that, he refreshed the compress on Ken's forehead and pulled the blankets back into place, tucking them securely around him. Ken sighed from somewhere beneath them and rolled onto his side towards Ran.

When Ran turned back to Yohji, Yohji's eyebrows were about at his hairline. Ran scowled again.

"What?" he ground out.

"Nothing. Just looks like you two have gotten awfully close." Yohji replied, the smirk finding its way back on his face. Oh yeah. No way was he taking Ken out of here. If anything only out of curiosity to see what happened between the two.

Ran's scowl darkened, accompanied by a hot red blush. "He's _injured_. That, by default, means he needs _care_. That's what I was giving him. If you're surprised by that display then I'm not surprised you just left him." he growled. Yohji ignored the spark of guilt in his stomach. He'd had no choice. But he wasn't going to start _that_ dance again.

"Well, _sir_, it seems we have a problem. Ken is _my_ responsibility. If I have to carry him out of here, I will. I've never met someone so stubborn over trying to keep such a burden. " he said firmly, verbally prodding at Ran.

"You will _not_ take him _anywhere_." Ran snapped out, rising to one knee with his hand at ready over his sword handle. "You will have to fight me for him, and I warn you I am a skilled swordsman." Yohji's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected display.

"This man is a stranger to you! Why the hell are you getting so uppity about it?" he replied, rising to one knee defensively as well.

"Because I don't trust you. You're crass and obnoxious. You left an injured man on death's door by himself for long enough that he wandered off on his own. And you left an incapable and busy woman to keep tabs on him. You only stumbled upon him because you were having a fucking tryst. Why should I let you take him back? So you can foist him on that poor woman? Why should I trust that you want him back for pure reasons? No. I will keep him beneath my care where I know he will be safe. I owe it to him." Ran spat out.

"Why is he so important to you?" Yohji's reply was smooth and calm, the intonation purposefully drawled in a lazy way. Ran blushed like a cherry and looked down at the futon quickly. When he dragged his gaze back up to meet Yohji's, only a slight pink tint remained spread across his nose.

" He has suffered much. And we have suffered the same. I will be damned to hell before I let the same things that befell me befall him. And I wounded him further. It is my responsibility to make sure he is properly cared for. " Yohji gave Ran a hard glare of his own, its presence surprising on the handsome, arrogant face.

"Understand this. Financially, I am in a position to provide for him. You cannot care for a man if you cannot afford to. Whether you like it or not, at the very least, I will keep after the two of you." at Ran's menacing glare, he pressed on more passively, "At least allow me to give you money, to assure that he is cared for. He will need clothing at the very least. And you're going to have to pay room rental for two now. Whatever your job may be, you won't be able to do it for at least a good week and a half." he finished softly. The scowl on Ran's face disappeared momentarily into a look of utter surprise. Reluctantly, he moved his hand down and sat once more. Yohji followed suit. Ran eyed him suspiciously, but at least this time death was not present in the gaze.

"I do not require payment in lieu of caring for this man." he grumbled, insulted. Yohji shook his head.

"I wouldn't dream of insulting you that way. I mean merely to help with caring for him." Ran looked away again. Finally, just as Yohji wondered if he was being ignored, Ran turned back to him grudgingly. He didn't look at Yohji, however, and simply stared at the floor between them.

"Perhaps…it would be a good idea." he murmured softly. Yohji smiled.

"Of course it would." He reached into his left sleeve and pulled out a small purse, which he handed directly over to Ran. Ran accepted it with both hands gratefully, bowing, and politely set it in front of him. The smile remained on Yohji's face.

"I wish neither of you any harm. If you won't let me take care of him, at least let me make sure he's cared for. I'll be in touch." he said merrily, standing to leave.

"Wait!" Ran's hand on his sleeve stopped him. Yohji turned curious emerald eyes to meet hot violet ones.

"If I think, for even one minute, you're putting him or myself in danger, I will not hesitate to see that we are cleared of that danger. By any means necessary." he spoke firmly and emotionlessly. Yohji studied the stoic expression before him, but only an idiot would have missed the threat in Ran's eyes.

"I've already told you that won't be a problem. And understand if _I_ think for one minute you can't care for him properly,_ I_ won't hesitate to pull him right out from under your nose. Name's Yohji, by the way. I'll be in touch. Ja ne." Yohji strode out soundlessly, his own threat hanging in the air of the room. Ran scowled at his closed door and turned to stare thoughtfully at Ken. He should have known this was going to be far messier than suited his tastes. He should have known. But now, after last night, Ran could not simply let Ken wander off out of his sight. The brunette needed him. He remembered dead brown eyes and frowned. Yes, Ken definitely needed him. Not some flake with an over active libido. For all Ran knew, Yohji could've had his perverted sights set on Ken for a purely personal reason. He shuddered at the thought of it. Beneath the blankets, Ken stirred, moaning softly.

"Ryuuta…kun…" Ran frowned at him and then sighed heavily, leaning forward to put a hand on Ken's forehead. He seemed to settle after that. Ran continued to frown thoughtfully at Ken until a maid interrupted the reverie, entering with more broth, rice, and water for tea. She cleared the dirty dishes and bowed, excusing herself shyly. Ran turned towards the tray and began preparing another round of medicinal tea, trying to think of a way to get Ken to drink it as he worked.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Botan looked at Yohji expectantly as he strolled in to the izakaya like a man who was on top of the world. Yohji winked at him and called for a waitress. He ordered another bottle of hot sake and didn't speak until he'd had the first shot. Botan only shook his head and grinned at him.

"You're something else, you know that Kudo?" Yohji winked at him again.

"As a matter of fact, I _do_. All the ladies seem to think so anyway." Botan rolled his eyes.

"And Ken?" Yohji's expression stayed merry, but his eyes sharpened slightly.

"He's under good care. Seems little Ranny boy is on some kind of guilt trip for hitting the guy in the gut when he punched him. Tried to fight me when I told him I was going to take Ken." Botan looked surprised.

"He tried to fight you? What happened?" Yohji nodded.

"Yeah. Said something about he and Ken having suffered the same. Ken's in good hands. They'll both be after Takatori when he's recovered; together it looks like. I left him some cash so he could buy the guy clothes and the rest, and verbally left my foot in the door." Botan nodded in satisfaction.

" Excellent as always Kudo. I'm hungry. Whaddya want to eat?" Yohji grinned at him.

"Actually, I have a hankering for some soup suddenly." Botan only shook his head again, and called for the waitress.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Manx walked down the hall of the lavish tea house with purpose. Dressed as a wealthy geisha, the fine painting on the silk her silver and pale blue kimono was of a flock of small birds soaring through rolling clouds. She strode all the way to the end of the hall where a set of large double washi sat shadowed by an alcove. Only one pair of slippers rested outside the door. Smiling softly to herself, Manx slid out of her shoes and stepped up onto the hard wood flooring gracefully. Sinking to sit on her knees before the doors, she lifted a hand and gently knocked twice against the wooden frame.

"Enter." a deep voice within commanded. And Manx smiled the smallest of smiles as she slid the door aside and bowed.

"You requested my presence this evening, lord?" she intoned softly. There was a hint of mockery in the voice, but it was subtle; only detected by one who had heard that same phrase repeated often.

"Yes. I did. Please come in and close the door." Manx did as the man bade and stepped inside, sliding the door shut behind her. She knelt across a small lacquered table adorned with lavish food dishes and decorations, and waited, hands calmly in her lap. Across from her, Takatori Shuuichi smiled warmly.

"Hello, Kitada. It's good to see you again." he spoke softly. This time, Manx smiled at him fully.

"I could say the same for you Shuuichi. Much has happened in the short time we were apart."

"Then I am glad that I extended my stay here in Edo before returning to the palace." he replied warmly, although there was a graveness to his expression that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Tell me all. I am anxious to hear it"

"Like you haven't already. I know Botan has already been here once. And Omi as well" Shuuichi smiled, his expression softening at the mention of his son.

"Humor me. I like listening to the sound of your voice. " Manx blushed prettily but proceeded to retell the events surrounding Ken's sudden appearance and his current circumstances with Ran. Shuuichi listened intently, like a man puzzling out a riddle, and he sat for a moment in silence once she had finished. Finally, he met her eyes, and spoke softly.

"I approve thus far, of this plan. Have Yohji and Omi keep an eye on them together. There will be times in which Yohji will be in my brother's attendance, and unable to do so. Omi will be good in that role. He has a more trustworthy, open appearance. Have them steer Hidaka and Fujimiya towards our missions and see how they handle them. Eventually, if things are feasible, we will try to draw them into our cause. " Manx nodded.

"I figured you'd say as much. I've already put it into action." She replied with a smile.

"Then let's enjoy the rest of the evening. A toast, to your remarkable skill and service Kitada." Shuuichi said with a smile, raising a small sake bowl. Manx smiled, blushing, and lifted hers as well.

"A toast, to the man who dares to fight for what he believes in, no matter the consequences." she replied softly. The light in Shuuichi's eyes turned loving as he leaned towards her, sake forgotten.

"A fight I would lose if you weren't by my side." he whispered into her ear. She had the grace to stop smiling as his lips touched hers.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yeah yeah. I know. But if you didn't see that one coming I don't know what to tell ya. It was pretty obvious to me in the series that they had feelings for each other. I just played that out. grin Ok. So Ran and Ken are together. Kritiker has them under it's wing, and things are moving right along. The next chapter is probably going to be some Ran/Ken fluff. Without them being romantically involved….fully. Should be fun to write…Perhaps some Schwartziness. 

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. Again my apologies for the lack of specific thankyous, but things are getting pretty busy around here...I'm really sorry about that. But thank you again so much for reviewing. It really makes my day. :)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	9. The Highway Men

Ok, so a couple of quick notes for the Schwartz.

Clothing: Clothing here is Baroque-ish. There were some fashions, I'm sorry to say for the period, that I refused to put any of them into, no matter how accurate that would leave the story. I know almost nothing about the technical names of period clothing, and since I studied mostly history and less of clothing (sadly, there was no room…:sniff:) I'm almost certain that I've gotten something wrong. If it really bothers you, let me know.

Crawford is dressed a bit more old-fashioned, as I tried to envision what might have been considered a classic or conservative look. So he's in a puritan-type suit. Eh….yeah….

Also, a _casaque_ (French I believe) is a military coat that is actually the origin of the modern jacket. It had several slits cut into it for riding and so that one could use one's hands freely without having to throw the cloak open wide. As I understand it, they became quite popular.

Finally, whether good or bad, Schwartz are humans. I don't think they're all fluff and goodness, but they have to have motivations. I don't like the way that Koyasu just leaves that out most of the time to make them look inhuman. Bottom line, they _are_ human, and behave as such. They also are bound to interact with each other on a routine basis considering they're always together. Guessing at how they behaved when out of the public eye was pretty hard. I hope this came out alright. They may be the bad guys, but that's one of the things that's so cool about them. _Why_ are they the bad guys?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"_The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding—  
Riding—riding—  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door."_

_Alfred Noyes, The Highway Man_

_**Edo**_

Bradley Crawford sighed in agitation and fidgeted with his lace collar. Again. For the umpteenth time that hour, despite the fact that it sloped over his shoulders in modest and perfect Puritanical fashion. Schuldig watched him through half-lidded eyes, sprawling lazily on a near by settee. One that he'd _insisted_ on importing. Crawford could not have blamed him. He liked sitting on the floor even less perhaps. It was not becoming of a gentleman. Thankfully, he had retained a velvet-cushioned armchair and a small writing table for his work. Behind him, he heard Schuldig exhale a mouth full of smoke.

"Really Brad. You've been messing with that bloody collar for the past fifteen minutes. If it troubles you so, then take it off. You're starting to aggravate me." he drawled lazily. Crawford whirled away from the dingy looking-glass and glared at him balefully.

"It is respectable and neat. I will _not_ take it off." he ground out. Schuldig just laughed. Decked out in the height of French court fashion, he stood in stark contrast to Crawford's own simple white outfit.

Where Crawford wore a simple, jacquard, sober, and white material, Schuldig had gone all out. He wore a heavily embroidered green waistcoat that matched his eyes and somehow complemented his hair. It flared fully at the bottom. His petticoat breeches were rather wide and elaborate, a green to match his coat and vest, although they were not embroidered. They were instead of heavy velvet. His stockings were at least white, although they were held up by black satin garters, tied into large, elaborate bows, which matched those at the elbow and cuff of his three quarter sleeve jacket. The white silk shirt he wore was one of the fullest Crawford had ever seen, and it practically billowed out of his jacket sleeves and out from beneath his vest. The vest was also green and had been embroidered heavily to match the jacket. At his neck was an elaborate ruff of lace, which did nothing to detract from the large black hat topped with green and black ostrich plumes, and yet another large satin black bow. Schuldig carried an elaborate cane, his fingers bedecked in so many rings Crawford had lost count. To top off all of the incredulous frippery, Schuldig's high-heeled black shoes also sported large and elaborate black bows.

He looked, to Crawford's mind, utterly ridiculous. Crawford had never been able to understand the height of men's fashion; especially the French court variety. Reading his thoughts, Schuldig laughed harder. Crawford snorted.

"How do you even _move_ beneath all of that ridiculous fluff?" he grumbled, turning back to the dingy looking-glass to fuss now with the modest lace hanging from his full length coat sleeves.

Schuldig inhaled another mouthful of smoke from his pipe and let it roll from his mouth lazily after a moment. A sly grin slid up one corner of his mouth. "How do _you_ move beneath all that starch? Honestly, you might have had those damn clothes cut from steel." He shot back. "If you were any stiffer, I suspect I'd have to have you sent to a museum to be put on display." Crawford glared hard at the looking-glass where he could just make out Schuldig's reposing form. He sighed and shook his head.

"I'd really prefer it if you wouldn't dress so when we meet with Takatori or Esstet." he grumbled. Schuldig snorted, the sound dry and devoid of humor.

"I do it to get a rise out of them. What's life if you can't have a little fun, I always say. You should _hear_ the things they think of when they see me. They're quite amusing. They never know what to make of it." Crawford shook his head.

"One of these days Schuldig, you're going to wind up with a real ear-full. Esstet will _not_ be happy you are so obviously drawing attention to yourself." Schuldig shrugged.

"I draw attention to myself just by being here. I'd get the same effect if I wore a damn _kimono_. Besides, at least I dress with more taste than Farferello." Crawford cringed mentally at the mention of Farferello.

"What _is_ he wearing tonight, by the way?" Schuldig's grin came back full force.

"Not to worry, _Heir_ Crawford. I've managed to convince him that dressing decently hurts God. Although it took quite a _bit_ of convincing. You owe me. He's wearing one of my…more fashionable outfits." Schuldig trailed off, snickering.

"Schuldig, you _didn't_. Why the hell don't I ever see _these_ sorts of things coming?" he groaned.

"Relax Bradley. It's just a pair of loose-cut breeches and a full shirt. I even managed to get a proper vest on him, although he refuses to tie up the shirt. And he refuses to wear shoes or stockings." Schuldig finished with a frown, as if he couldn't comprehend why Farferello wouldn't want to in the first place. Crawford sighed and shook his head.

"I suppose that's all we can hope for then. Nagi?"

"He wears what he always wears. It isn't even the height of Japanese fashion. You'd think Esstet would provide the kid with clothes that fit him. Although he could just be wearing them large on purpose. Standing next to the _foreigners_, I don't think it's going to matter. " Schuldig finished with a grin. Crawford just shook his head.

"Right then." he snapped his coat cuffs into place rigidly. "Let's get going."

Schuldig rose fluidly from the settee in one motion, moving like a panther towards where his _casaque_ hung. He left his pipe on the table after dumping the still smoldering ash in a small iron pot. They donned their mantles and headed out into the darkness of the hall, Schuldig whistling merrily and tapping his cane with each step while Crawford tried to bank his irritation. He failed miserably as his thumb and forefinger came up to the bridge of his nose. Schuldig grinned at him sideways. They came to Nagi and Farferello's room and Schuldig knocked with the knob on the top of his cane cheekily. Farferello opened the door grinning wildly and looking disheveled.

_Oh yes_, Crawford thought, _it was going to be a **long** night._ Schuldig's soft chuckle in his mind only made the foreboding worse.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They arrived fifteen minutes early and were shown into a room with zabuton, a low table, and a tatami floor. When a servant entered offering sake, Schuldig took him up on it immediately, and finished nearly half a bottle in ten minutes. Crawford only wished he could do the same. Nagi sulked in a corner quietly while Farferello sat staring in intense fascination at the table top; unblinking and unmoving. When they were finally called in, Schuldig had to drag him to his feet and down the corridor until he got the picture and began walking on his own, albeit as if all the bones had been taken out of his body. Crawford wasn't even going to _try_ to comprehend.

He refused to kneel in front of the door when knocking, and neither did the rest of Schwartz. Although Crawford was slightly surprised that Nagi hadn't done so. They were admitted by a sober, flat voice, and Nagi slid the door shut once they were all inside. Reluctantly, they knelt on the zabuton in front of a long, narrow table. They knelt stiffly, the layers of starched and perfectly ordered clothing hampering their movements. With of course, Farferello and Nagi being the exceptions. The table was covered with various traditional dishes that looked very strange to Crawford, and for once he agreed with Schuldig's rambling inside his brain. The German, apparently, was quite sick of eating strange foods. Crawford stared silently at the two old men and one old woman who sat across from him, serene expressions firmly in place. Schwartz knew far better than to trust those expressions.

"Takatori grows close to gaining greater power and influence for the Shogunate. He has been quite useful to us. What news do you bring us of his affairs?" one old man said genially, his voice belying the razor-sharp mind behind it.

"He has eliminated the village. He has also decided to keep Kouichirou on as an assistant. Currently, he has become quite arrogant and pleased with his success." Crawford bit out crisply.

"Let him be pleased for now. He knows nothing of the future. He is but one small part of the whole. Is there anything else to report?" Crawford simply shook his head.

"And how are all of you finding this splendid country?" the old woman asked, smiling in a patronizing manner. Crawford felt more than saw Schuldig's lips curve up into a malicious sneer, but the man kept even a mental retort from his mind, to Crawford's relief.

"We find it quite fascinating." he answered simply.

"Very good. Are you hungry?" Regardless of whether they were hungry or not, Crawford knew they were going to have to eat anyway.

"I'm sure we are hungry enough to try some of this impressive banquet you've laid out for us. Please allow me to express gratitude on our behalf."

"It is not necessary. Please enjoy yourselves. You will excuse us." It was not a request, it was a command, and Schwartz rose as one as the council of elders left the room. Once they were gone the tension in the air seemed to ease.

_Che…I find Japan as 'one small part of the whole', and a completely unappealing one at that._ Schuldig growled mentally. _How the hell do you put up with this crap Crawford?_ Crawford smiled grimly.

_Quite easily. Just remember what _other_ plans we have in place. We won't have to do this for much longer you know._

_Ahh yes. I suppose that's a decent consolation, but still…_ Crawford could feel Schuldig's pout echoing across his mind and the grim smile widened.

_Soon, Schuldig, very soon._

_Did you know they have sea monster tentacles on this table?_ came Farferello's curious mental voice. _Can we eat **really** them?_

_They're **octopus**_ _tentacles, you moron. _came Nagi's mental retort. The boy sounded rather insulted. _Of **course** you can eat them._ _Crawford, when this is all finished, I don't ever want to share a room with him again._

Crawford sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation once more.

_We could share some tentacles instead_… came Farferello's hopeful reply. Nagi just snorted.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Wow. Is Farf hard to write or _what_? I wish I had some mental ingenious so I could play with his character. But sadly, I don't really have enough brain power or brilliance to write for an insane man. Such a shame. It could really be so much fun…

Ok, sorry so short, but this was only designed to be a brief interlude for introduction. A bath scene is next between Ran and Ken….hehehe


	10. Rub a dub dub

Ok, first of all, here's some notes on _shounen ai_. Shounen ai is not actually what it's called in Japan. It was during samurai times, but it isn't anymore. Ironically enough, it's now called _boii l(r)abu_L and R are interchangble, so I put them both in. Shounen Ai actually has quite a negative connotation with it. To call male/male relationships by that name invokes the image of an older man and a younger boy; i.e. a pedophilic situation, not dissimilar to the same sort of goings-on in ancient Greece. It was considered very normal for an older samurai to "love" a younger one, usually an adolescent, and be his first introduction into sex (love). It was actually, as I understand it, considered quite an honorable thing to do. In fact, many samurai who were encouraged to give their hearts over to another comrade, found themselves in a tight situation, as this left them with little of themselves or their loyalty to give to their master. (Daimyo/lord) Women were married out of duty and the need to produce an heir. (Is it any wonder they had no value?)

I have it set up here, to make my life easier, that Ran and Ken have both had this experience. Yes, it's disturbing to write. But it's also natural. And so it would be to both Ran and Ken. And so I'm not going to write about it as if it was traumatizing to either of them, because chances are it wasn't. This also, as I said earlier, makes my life easier, in that it won't be a horrible shock to either of them to love another male. Thank goodness. Ok. Now some stuff on the ofuro, in case I left things out earlier.

In the ofuro, you have to wash first BEFORE you even think about setting foot into the tub. You soak to relax, not to clean. The Japanese were fairly firm about bathing, and usually did so on a daily basis so long as circumstances allowed. In fact, when the first Portuguese (the first foreigners ever in Japan I believe) came to Japan, the Japanese found them foul and offensive. Not only was bathing considered to be a dangerous practice in Western countries at the time, but the Portuguese also ate meat, which gave them rather rancid breath. Due to limited resources, the Japanese didn't really eat meat at all at the time. Barring, of course, sea food. So their first impressions of foreigners were NOT very good.

I've had Ran heat the bathing water with stones this time. I don't know if they did that at all, but I couldn't bring myself to torture Ken any further by washing him in cold water when he's sick. I know that usually, they DID bathe in cold water first before heating the water became the fad. shudders I'd have stopped bathing I think. There's never any heat inside those places. And it's cold with like two meters of snow on the ground here!

Finally, a quick note about Kimono sleeves. They're actually sewn almost all the way closed with the exception of a space to slide one's hand in or out, and the insides are left hollow. The left sleeve is used to store things (like a pocket) and the right is used to store waste. (I.e. used tissues, that sort of thing). This would be the reason, I think, that in a lot of anime, especially period anime or anime in which a person is wearing a kimono or an outfit with voluminous material, they can produce things seemingly out of thin air. Although I do have to say, a lot of times you really have to reach, and I don't think it's as discreet, fast, or convenient as they make it look!

Ok, rant done, enjoy!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"_How cool it is!  
A small crab, in the rain,  
Climbs on a pine."_

Buson Yosa

_**Edo, Chapter 6**_

Ken stirred softly with a moan, and tried to roll over. A heavy weight pressed on top of him seemed to prohibit this action, and loosing his bearings, he tried opening his eyes.

His fevered headache did not appreciate this. Nor did the nearly unbearable pounding in one of his temples. He wondered briefly why it was only one side and not both. He also wondered how it was possible for him to have two different headaches at the same time. Nearly instantly, a cool hand settled something even cooler and wetter on his forehead.

"Are you awake?" a deep voice intoned beside him. Ken coughed weakly, and realized the weight he felt must have been about five or six wool blankets on top of him.

"Guess so…" he wheezed. He looked up to find himself staring into a pair of violet eyes in a pale face. Ran's red hair stood in bright, exotic contrast to his pale skin. The man was frowning at him. "What…?" the question ended in another cough. Ran shook his head.

"Nothing. You need more sleep." he said simply. Ken couldn't really argue there; he was bone tired. Except that he felt as if he'd been sleeping for weeks. And he doubted he'd be able to ever sleep again with how disgusting he felt. Not only had he been laying in bed forever, he also had apparently not bathed during that time.

"Don't wanna." he protested feebly. Ran's frown turned into a scowl.

"Well it isn't like you can do much else. You're still very injured and very fevered."

"Yeah, I guessed that." Ken grunted. He turned slightly and put weak hands beneath him, trying to lift himself up on trembling arms. The very action hurt more than Ken cared to admit, and he hated himself for being so easily defeated. Stubbornly, he managed to force himself to sit up. There was an irritated growl from beside him.

"Is there anything in that head of yours? Do you want to recover or _what_?" Ran snapped irately. Ken tried to return the intense glower he was receiving but the look was rather crippled by the way he was shuddering as he tried to remain sitting.

"I f-fucking….don't want…to lay down….right now…." he growled out. "I'm gonna get…bedsores." Another coughing fit had his shoulders shaking, and he eased his breath out after he was finished as though it might slice his throat open or shatter his lungs. It did not take long for the ice in Ran's eyes to soften. Grabbing the blanket he'd been using to cover himself the previous evening, he wadded it up and placed it behind Ken, angling it against the wall. Gently, he leaned Ken against it so his weight was supported by the blanket and the wall rather than his own weary muscles. The result had Ken halfway between lying and sitting.

"…Thanks." Ken replied shyly, not meeting his eyes. Ran merely nodded. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Despite the pain they had shared the first night that Ken had woken up, neither seemed to know how to talk to the other; one overwhelmed emotionally and physically, the other having become used to keeping no company outside of his own. Finally, Ran reluctantly broke the silence.

"If you want...that is…if you feel the need to maybe get out of bed for a _little_ while, I suppose we could make a trip down to the ofuro." he offered tentatively. Ken's face brightened like a sunny day, and Ran tried very hard to keep from mirroring the wide smile.

"I'd like that a whole lot, actually." he replied hoarsely, despite the energy in his tone. Ran nodded.

"Alright. It'll give the maids a chance to change the bedding too." he replied, eyeing the blood-stained linens with distaste. Ran went to the door and summoned a maid. When she appeared, he requested that the ofuro be prepared if it wasn't already and that someone come and change the bedding while they were out. He was about to dismiss her when Ken startled them both with a raspy call for an extra set of bedding supplies. Ran looked at him strangely, but nodded to the maid, dismissing her. He turned back to Ken with an inquisitive look on his face, helping the young man to slowly sit up once more.

"Hey, you've been sleeping on the floor for how long? It's about damn time you got some proper rest." when Ran scowled at him, he only grinned weakly. "I'll be ok, you know? I told you I'd do my best. It isn't going to help us if you wear yourself out too." he murmured. Ran could already feel him trembling with the effort to stay upright as he started to removed the bandages.

"Hn. Well if certain people would rest like they're supposed to…" he trailed off grumpily. Ken glared at him.

"Staying in bed….too long…could drive a guy…nuts…" he panted, doing his best to hold his arm up so Ran could unwind the bandage from his shoulder. Ran's scowl deepened and he gently tugged Ken's arm down.

"I don't need you to do that, you're only going to make the injury worse." Ken only sighed and turned his eyes down to the blanket. Ran finished removing his bandages in silence and then proceeded to investigate the wounds carefully. They looked, he decided, much better than they had only two days ago.

"Well at least these seem to be doing a little better. How do they feel?" he asked crisply.

"I'm sorry." Ken muttered quietly. Ran blinked at him.

"What the hell does that have to do with how your injuries feel? And what are you sorry about?" he growled in irritation. Ken was still refusing to look at him.

"I'm sorry you got stuck taking care of me. I—I know I'm not the easiest person to care for. But thank you, for making the effort. Even if I am being an idiot about it." he replied, so softly that Ran almost missed it.

"Ken…" Ran trailed off in exasperation. He didn't know if he wanted to shake the man or pat him on the shoulder. Probably both. Although neither was probably a good idea at the moment given his injuries. "…I wouldn't be taking care of you if I didn't want to. You want to show gratitude then listen to me and bloody _rest_. It's not like you're an incredibly difficult person to deal with. You sleep too much to be a source of trouble at the moment. Although if you keep trying to get up my opinion on that may change." he replied with a sigh. Ken looked up at him like a hopeful and somewhat reproachful puppy. Ran felt the rest of his irritation evaporate.

"Sorry. I just…I'm not really patient…" he replied, smiling sheepishly. Ran reached out and gently rested a hand on his head, ruffling somewhat grimy brown locks. He was in full agreeance that Ken needed a bath.

"Don't think so lowly of yourself. I know things have been rough. But trust me. I'm not the kind of man who stands for getting _stuck_ with anything. So after your bath, you are coming right back up here to this futon and going back to sleep." he finished with a stern glare. Ken nodded again, and the room fell into a heavy silence as Ran examined Ken's wounds and Ken pretended not to feel embarrassed about such close scrutiny of his naked person. He knew that Ran had probably seen every inch of him at this point and such embarrassment was silly, but it still unnerved him none the less. He wondered what Ran thought about the other, older scars on his body.

Ken growled inwardly and forced himself to stop being so self-conscious. He tried hard not to squirm and to control the shaking of his muscles. He wondered just how bad his fever was. He couldn't tell. His head felt as if it were in the clouds and not on his shoulders. Although he realized belatedly that there was a different sort of pain in his gut aside from one caused by wounds or fever.

"What if…" he trailed off at Ran's glare.

"_Yes_?" Ran grunted.

"What if I'm…hungry?" Ken trailed off. Ran felt relief spread through his stomach and into his chest at the remark.

"You're hungry? Why didn't you _say_ anything?" he was too relieved that Ken had found his appetite to sound anything accept mildly exasperated. Ken glared back at him.

" I wasn't hungry _before_. But I don't wanna eat until after I'm clean. I smell bad enough to ruin even my _own_ appetite." he replied, giving his uninjured armpit a cursory sniff and then wrinkling his nose. Ran couldn't help it; he chuckled.

"Aa." he agreed. "You do stink." Ken only glared at him again. Shaking his head, Ran slowly, gently, helped Ken to stand. The brunette nearly collapsed, but they finally managed to somehow work it so that most of Ken's weight leant on Ran. For modesty's sake, Ran wrapped him carefully in the Inn's complementary yuukata He belted the sash loosely for fear of agitating Ken's wounds. Ken hadn't seemed to mind. Ran left the haori off, deciding that Ken could do without the extra weight in spite of the chill evening. Even though Ken was feverish, movement was going to be hard enough as it was for him even with only a cotton yuukata. Sliding the door open, he helped Ken out into the chill hallway, ignoring his slippers. He didn't need them sliding off of Ken's feet and sending the man sprawling. Ken didn't seem to mind this either, and Ran realized that his concentration was solely on putting one foot in front of the other. That was fine with him.

Very slowly, they made their way down the hall towards the stairs, Ken wincing and grunting and Ran pausing several times to help Ken rest. He was beginning to think this was a bad idea, but Ken's face had looked so happy at the thrill of a bath that Ran couldn't bring himself to deny the young man. He suspected that sleeping in that sort of filth wasn't helping Ken heal any faster in any case. Sponge baths could only go so far.

The stairs had been difficult. Ran still wasn't sure how they'd managed. The gash that had gone into Ken's thigh caused the man pain every time he'd tried to bend his leg even the slightest bit. By the time they made it to the bottom, Ken was pale and shaking, and he had lost what little healthy glow Ran had seen on him in the room. He was beginning to worry that this had been a grave mistake. But Ken pressed on stubbornly, and Ran tried to shoulder more of his weight, giving anyone who happened to be up and about at this time of night a furious glower to let them know that what was going here was _none_ of their business. He could have wept with relief when they reached the ofuro finally. Gently, he set Ken on the cool reed floor and opened the small cloth sack he'd carried down. Inside of it were some cleaning implements and Ran pulled them out and set them aside before folding the cloth neatly and tucking it inside his sleeve. What he did next was practical, and quite acceptable; however, it shocked Ken at first.

He hadn't realized, that since Ran obviously had to help him bathe, Ran obviously also had to bathe, and by default be naked. Which normally would not have affected Ken. He'd been naked in the ofuro before; with men _and_ women. It was nothing new. Hell, he'd been naked in front of Ran more times than he probably knew at this point. But somehow, a naked Ran was different. He felt suddenly shy. Ken swallowed and tried not to blush while Ran slipped out of his clothes and stripped completely naked, folding them neatly and setting them in a small reed basket. He turned around and came towards Ken, and Ken specifically avoided looking at the man's crotch, unsure why he felt so insecure suddenly. Ran's body was beautiful; sculpted as if by an artist, and Ken found himself slightly jealous of that perfect body. Ran's pale skin was the social ideal of beauty. His own dark skin was marred with wounds and scars, not all of them recent. They stood in stark pale contrast on his body, and Ken found himself suddenly self-conscious about them. He had never felt that way before; always taking pride in the marring as a memorial to the obstacles he'd overcome. Somehow though, he felt insecure about them around Ran.

Ken shook himself again and forced his thoughts elsewhere. He was who he was, and there was nothing that could change it, so he may as well accept it. Why on earth was he being so strange about this in the first place? He tried telling himself it was just his fevered brain and pent up frustration at being ill and injured. Ran had, after all, been taking complete and thorough care of him; which had probably endeared him to Ken's subconscious no small amount. And now, to have to be bathed like a child…by a grown man his age no less…

"Ken…? Are you alright? Are you sure you can do this?" Ran's concerned voice snapped Ken back to himself, and he started, not realizing that at some point during his mental wandering Ran had come to crouch close in front of him. He was now peering carefully into Ken's eyes, one hand on his forehead.

"Yeah sorry. My mind was wandering. I can do this. Please Ran. I need it." He murmured. Ran nodded and gently began disrobing him. He pulled Ken forward carefully and leaned him against his chest while he slid the yuukata off of Ken's shoulders. Ken closed his eyes and leaned into Ran, grateful for the support; even the touch of another human being, and hating himself for being vulnerable enough to need it at the same time. He helped Ran as much as he could and shuddered in the cold air of the room. Ran folded his yuukata and sash, laying them atop his own clothes in the basket, and then leaned down to help Ken stand again. In his other hand he held the washing implements he had set aside and two small modesty towels that Ken hadn't known he'd brought.

"Let's get out of this cold air and into the bath, ne?" he murmured quietly. Ken nodded, shivering in both pain and cold as they made their way towards the ofuro door slowly. Ken wanted to run into the heat, but even this slow walk was all he could manage. Healing was a frustrating thing.

It seemed like forever had passed by the time they stood in front of the ofuro door. Ran slid it aside without preamble and helped Ken into the warmth within. They walked to one side of the room and Ran gently set Ken on the ground near the small brazier set in the room to aid the warmth of the room and heat small stones used to warm washing water. Ken sighed in relief at the feeling of the warm wooden walls against his bare skin. His shuddering tapered off into trembling. Ran offered him a half smile.

"That good huh? You aren't even in the bath yet." Ken chuckled weakly.

"Just anticipation." he replied. Ran nodded. He filled a bucket from a small fountain used for washing and brought it over to where Ken sat slouched against the wall. Reaching into the small brazier, Ran used a pair of tongs to fish a couple of hot stones out from the heart of the flame, and dropped them into the bucket. They sank to the bottom with a loud hiss as they came in contact with the cold water. He waited patiently until he tested the water and it was warm enough for his liking before removing the stones and setting them back into the brazier. They hissed loudly as a cloud of steam wafted upwards. Normally he would not have bothered with heating the wash water, but he did not want Ken any sicker than he already was. Washing him in cold water in a drafty ofuro was sure to worsen the fever.

"This might hurt. Tell me if I'm being too rough." he intoned blandly. Ken nodded. He lay back and spread himself out as much as he could, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as he felt Ran begin to wash him. He sighed in pleasure. Ran's hands were gentle, even though they were calloused. The feeling of them on his skin so lightly; massaging, washing, lingering here or there to check a bruise, was luxurious. It did hurt a bit, but in a nice sort of way. In a way that meant he was healing. Ken simply relaxed, and left himself in Ran's hands.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Ran found himself swallowing hard as he washed Ken's body. This was completely different than it had been upstairs, when it had been a sponge bath in the bright light of the lantern. When Ken had been unconscious and shuddering with fever.

The lantern light here was high along the walls, casting more of a dim orange luminescence than a bright glow in the steamy fog. It disguised the bruising and scarring on Ken's skin, giving the illusion of a tanned, healthy body. Even the wounds somehow seemed to shrink in significance. Ran could feel firm muscles beneath slick, warm skin, trembling slightly beneath his touch. Ken had spread his legs and tipped his head back, creating a rather appealing view along the column of his neck and down his chest and stomach. The fever flush on his cheeks somehow looked more associated with pleasure to Ran's mind with the eyes closed and Ken's deep sighing. He looked completely relaxed. His arms rested at his sides serenely, and Ken even appeared to be enjoying himself.

This did not help to keep Ran's thoughts any purer. He swallowed again and forced himself to look away from those slightly parted lips and down to his own hands. That didn't help either. He stared in fascination as they scrubbed gently at sculpted, tanned thighs and calves. They slid back up fluidly and massaged stomach and chest muscles, careful of the wounds, before gliding up to scrub at Ken's shoulders and neck. Ken sighed again, and there was no mistaking it; he was definitely enjoying this. He tilted his head to the side and allowed Ran better access to the area beneath his chin and jaw. Ran forced his gaze away from the juncture between Ken's neck and shoulders and down, following his hands as they moved. When it settled instead on a well defined chest and hardened pale nipples, he gave up and let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

He squished any sexual thoughts of Ken down ruthlessly. Ran had been with other men before, and admired them as well. He preferred them to women. Women seemed too pure for him to think of sexually, although really the only women Ran had ever known even remotely well were his mother and sister. His older, and rather striking sensei had been the one to introduce him to the other ways one could care for one's close comrade. Ran had been touched by the whole experience. It was one of his warmest memories. And it certainly hadn't done anything to make him shy away from thinking of other men that way. It had given him the hope to fill a hole in his life that he hadn't realized was there.

But Ken was different. For the Gods' sake, the man was injured! He was sick! And he was trusting Ran to help him get clean and relaxed. Ken deserved a decent massage and bath, without Ran thinking perverted thoughts about him. He suddenly became aware of the feeling of Ken's hot breath near his ear.

His head snapped up quickly and almost collided with Ken's chin. The breath escaped from his lungs when he found himself looking into half-lidded, deep brown eyes.

"You ok?" Ken asked sleepily. To Ran that voice sounded deliciously husky. This was starting to get out of hand. "You look kinda tense." he murmured. Ran only nodded, swallowing hard and willing Ken to sit back again. Having him so close was wreaking havoc with Ran's senses. As if reading his thoughts, Ken sighed and leaned back again, and Ran had to keep himself from sighing in relief. " 'Soon as I'm better, I'm gonna give you a nice long massage buddy. You are way too tense all the time…" Ken trailed off as Ran continued cleaning him. This did not help contain the dirty images splintering through Ran's brain at the moment. He wondered what Ken would think if the man knew just what kind of massage he wanted. The thought of those tanned, calloused fingers working through skin and muscle made Ran feel a bit warm and flushed himself. He cleared his throat before trusting himself to say anything. He'd better put an end to that idea quickly.

"I don't need one. Lean forward so I can wash your back." Ran was proud of the neutrality in that tone. Ken complied and let Ran lean him forward, resting against the man's chest. He winced at the feeling of the man's warm breath fanning gently against his thighs, and clamped down even harder on those mental images to prevent his body from reacting to them. _Innocence. This is all innocence_. He reminded himself. Who knew if Ken felt the same way about other men that he did?

His hands slicked along the length of Ken's back, careful of the gash, massaging gently as he cleaned. The muscles beneath his hand were firm and warm, and Ken had stopped trembling. That at least was a relief. It meant that he had warmed up a bit finally.

"I'm going to rinse you now. You might want to hold your breath for a second." Ken nodded and sucked a breath in raggedly. Ran winced in sympathy at the obvious pulling in the man's chest and slowly poured the bucket of warm water over his head. Ken sighed like a man being caressed, body flexing minutely under the flow, enjoying the warmth. Any reprieve Ran had from his less than pure thoughts quickly fled as they were activated again.

"Ok. Now let's get the grime from your hair." At least he _sounded_ in control.

"Mmmm…" Ken replied throatily in agreement. Ran kept himself in check. He refilled the bucket and reheated the water. When it was ready, he gently took a bit of soap and rubbed it into Ken's brown hair, grimacing at the reddish-brown suds that resulted. He was going to wash it twice, just to be sure. His fingers rubbed carefully into Ken's scalp, massaging where he was sure there were no bumps that would be sore. Ken was silent, although he occasionally released a small noise that sounded suspiciously like a purr. Ran pretended he couldn't hear it and wondered if he really should wash Ken's hair twice after all.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

By the time Ran had finished washing Ken, he felt no small amount of relief. He leaned the man back against the wall gently, mentally congratulating himself for not letting his mind wander off too far while he had washed and massaged that rather very nice body.

"I'm just going to clean up quickly, and then we'll get into the tub ok?" Ken nodded sleepily.

"K…." he trailed off, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He hadn't bothered to move from his sprawl, Ran noticed. He stopped himself from letting his gaze roam over muscles beneath moist skin gleaming in the foggy lantern glow and instead focused on washing himself. The water was cold since Ran hadn't bothered to heat it, so it worked well and he was clean in no time. The sooner this was over the better. Once he was done, he turned and set about the task of getting them both into the water.

Gently, he leaned Ken forward and tried to get the man to stand. They both managed it with some effort, and Ken moaned weakly as they staggered towards the tub.

"Are you alright?" Ran asked softly.

"Yeah…just…it hurts…I'll be ok once we're in the water…" he grunted. Ran nodded and stepped carefully into the tub before turning and basically lifting Ken in. He slowly sank the brunette into the water, and Ken seemed to turn boneless as soon as his body was submerged. Concerned, Ran sank in himself quickly and pulled Ken to rest against his chest before the young man could slip completely beneath the surface of the water. Ken sighed and settled the back of his head into the crook of Ran's shoulder. It only took one look at his face to tell Ran that he was pretty zoned out.

"That better?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, tons. Feels really good." Ken mumbled, his breathing slowly evening out.

"I'm glad then." Ran replied. They sat in silence and Ran listened to Ken's deep, even breathing. The heat of the water must have relaxed his muscles enough that he could breathe somewhat normally and without pain. Ran was glad for it. He would let Ken doze for a little while before they went back up, he thought, as he felt Ken's heart beating steadily against his chest through the young man's back. The sensation calmed him somehow. Ran stared at Ken's soft brown hair thoughtfully, and he wondered vaguely, not for the first time, what he had gotten himself into. He wrapped his arms around Ken to be sure the man wouldn't slide under, and then leaned his head back against the wall, allowing the hot water to drain all of the stress and tension from his body. With a pleasant sigh, he closed his eyes, and let the room drift into silence.

OOOOOOO

WAAAAAIIIIIIIIIII! I LOVE ofuros! They're probably better than a trip to the spa I think….Especially in the chilly fall and cold winter. I went in an outdoor one once when it was only about 30 degrees out. At night. With the wind howling. And it was wonderful. Sorry the haiku didn't make much sense… I'm having a hard time finding some good ones.

Also, to all of my reviewers: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! Things get so hectic here with everything I'm doing, and it's often hard enough just to get the stories out. In fact, I don't get to edit them very often either, so thanks for bearing with that. Thank you all for your input, comments, compliments and support. This story probably would not have gone far without them! So thank you again! I am in your service as always…..

Next chapter, Omi's back!

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	11. Frustration and Aid

Okay guys; time for another happy installment. I've certainly kept you all waiting long enough. I've been trying to take a bit more time for editing so that those appalling mistakes don't keep showing up and making me ashamed I have a degree in English literature.

Thanks again to all those of you that reviewed. I'm so glad you liked the story! Or like it so far anyways. Let me know if you have questions, comments, or suggestions!  Hopefully this will keep things moving right along. There aren't any notes that I can think of for this chapter, but if you have any questions or want to chat about daily life in Japan, feel free to drop me a line! And the other ALT (JET) who reviewed—where are you staying! I thought I was the only gaijin in Japan who liked Weiss….:) Lemme know, maybe we can get together!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"**_The autumn wind_**

_**Through the opening of a sliding**_

_**door—**_

**_A piercing voice"_**

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo Chapter 6B**_

A small folded fan slid gracefully from beneath a long black satin sleeve as Omi gently slid the reed curtain over his carriage window aside. He peered out of it discreetly from within the depths of the carriage. As the Fujiyama Inn came into view, he scowled in disapproval. It didn't look like the sort of place with any kind of amenities that would be of good use for one such as himself, and he found himself mentally cursing Yohji for finding this ninja and then taking off to do other things. Why was it always _his_ job to look after Yohji? Normally Omi would not have minded, but this job was an unwelcome interruption from other more important things that Omi had been observing and researching, and he didn't know how long he was going to be here.

Of course, Yohji was off visiting with Reiji Takatori again, which _was_ his primary job, but still, Omi considered it a moot point. Just because Yohji was busy didn't mean that _Omi_ had to stand in for him. He wondered, briefly, if Manx couldn't have gotten someone _else_ to play babysitter to the two men residing here. He'd been rather miffed by her insistence that he was the only one capable, let alone that Persia-sama himself had selected him for the job, giving him no choice in the matter. As much as Omi loved his father and put himself into his father's cause, there were times he couldn't help but feel as if he got stuck doing a great deal of 'dirty work' for the man. There were plenty of other agents for the job; who were not involved in things nearly as important as Omi was involved in.

Although despite himself, he reluctantly admitted that he was curious to see the two if Persia was so interested in them. Yohji had said that the ninja had gone against all four of Schwartz by himself and survived. That in and of itself was rather amazing. If it was true, then Persia had every reason to want to keep tabs on these young men. And, he admitted a bit grudgingly to himself, to want Omi to keep an eye on them instead of a lower agent. If they were as important as they seemed then Kritiker was doubtless going to be handling this situation delicately. Something else for Omi to be looking forward to. He hoped their efforts paid off at least.

There was also, of course, the fact that Ken was the soul survivor of a ninja village that had openly continued to pledge loyalty to the Emperor, even fifty years after the Shogunate had wrested complete power. Kouichirou Kouga had been nothing if not loyal and helpful to Persia's cause, and even Omi had felt the grief when the news of the village's utter destruction had reached the palace. The Kouichirou clan had adamantly defended the Emperor's forces during the battle with the Shogunate, and remained loyal afterwards. At the price of their lives. One more ally Kritiker no longer could rely on. More decent human beings lost to greed and corruption.

Omi knew of course, that Persia, as the Emperor, felt responsible for this destruction in his inability to prevent it, and by default, Manx felt the same guilt. As the head set of eyes and ears for the Emperor in the underground world, she should have been able to hinder such a plan. But hindering such a plan had meant the loss of Yohji, their carefully and painstakingly cultivated internal spy that had only recently gained complete ease in Reiji's presence. Either decision would have cost Kritiker heavily. In the end there hadn't been a choice. Reiji had attacked too soon and too secretly for anything to be done. By the time Yohji had learned of the betrayal that would assure the clan could be ambushed, it had been too late. What Kritker had thought would be a vicious battle turned out to be a brutal massacre. The guilt had fallen upon them all heavily. It still remained with them, pushing Kritiker to work harder; move faster, before something so horrible happened again.

Manx hadn't said as much to him when Yohji had initially delivered the news, but she had told Omi about it quietly later on, before he met with his father; the Emperor. Omi was careful to heed Manx's advice and treaded carefully in his father's presence, accepting every order and plan without protest or question. A gentle gaze upon his departure had spoken of the Emperor's gratefulness. Only outside did he confront Manx about the order. But she had remained unwavering and so he had accepted with little resistance. If this really was so important, then they would need all the allies they could get.

Despite the loyalty of some, his father had become little more than a figure head with no authority to stop anything the Shogunate wanted to do. He was also unable to stop the corruption spreading like disease among the new government, and so had begun to do so quietly, using the underground as his army instead of trying to confront the evil in broad daylight. So far, this seemed to be a wise decision. In fact, up until the destruction of the village, things had been progressing quickly and rather well. Without the aid of the Kouichirou clan now, however, things were looking rather bleak. Omi did not blame his father for what had happened, although Persia blamed himself. And Omi was willing to bet the remaining ninja didn't either. In fact, Omi was willing to bet that once the ninja discovered it was the Emperor that his clan had pledged loyalty to that wanted to employ him, he would be more than happy to oblige. It was just a matter of getting to the point in which the Emperor could make the offer.

With another self-suffering sigh, the youth slid out as the carriage rumbled to a halt, his informal, three crested kimono floating gracefully behind him. He had chosen to dress somewhat informally so as to keep people at their ease. He resisted the urge to rub his sore bottom in public as a servant brought in his baggage and carried it up to the room that Omi had ordered in advance. He followed the young man up eagerly, mind suddenly only full of thoughts of a bath and then bed. It was late in the evening, and he had been traveling quite a distance from an estate far on the outskirts of the city. Omi was looking forward to a soak in the ofuro and then a nice long sleep before he had to deal with the ronin and ninja currently in residence down the hall.

OOOO

He was dressed in the Inn's yuukata and happily on his way to the bath, already dreaming of a nice long soak, when the sounds of someone grunting and struggling in pain reached his ears. Omi immediately flattened himself against the wall, muscles tense and ready for attack, one hand on the handle of his wakezashi. He crept towards the top of the stairs and peered over the edge cautiously. He relaxed immediatley. A man with red hair and pale skin matching the description of the ronin was struggling to get a man with brown hair and darker skin that matched the description of the ninja towards the stair well. The man's yuukata hung slightly open and the sight of bruised and marred skin stood to confirm Omi's suspicion. Not even at the Inn for twenty minutes and already he'd found them. And he had so wanted a bath and some sleep first.

He felt his irritation fade as he watched them, however. The brunette was trying to help his red-haired comrade get him to the stairs, but he appeared to be exhausted and in a good amount of pain to do much good. The ronin beside him looked both frustrated and exasperated, all mixed-in with a healthy amount of concern. Omi found it humorous that he kept glaring over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming. There was no way he could _not_ help them. Especially since not doing so would be passing up an excellent opportunity to engage them. Tying the sash around his yuukata more securely and leaving his small ofuro bag at the top of the stairs, he went to do just that; his lips curving into a wide, friendly smile.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Ran had had to practically carry Ken back. As it turned out, the price of relaxation had been a weakened, boneless Ken. A Ken that Ran could not bring fully awake, no matter how hard he tried. And so he had carefully wrapped the man in his yuukata, and had done his best to get Ken back to bed without jarring him too badly. Ken staggered against him, tripping frequently, while mumbling and groaning. Ran wanted to be angry at him; angry that he'd gone through all that trouble for getting Ken a nice hot bath only to have to deal with an over-exhausted Ken , but he couldn't be. He knew it wasn't Ken's fault that he couldn't function. It had been a struggle just to get down to the bath and then into the water. Ken was probably worn out and doing the best he could. Ran couldn't have denied the young man the pleasure of a bath after all of the hell he'd been going through. Even if it meant struggling to get Ken back to bed.

"Here. Let me help you." a youthful voice called softly. Ran was so surprised at the voice he nearly dropped Ken as his head snapped up to see who the hell had dared to interrupt them. He found himself staring at a young man dressed in the inn's yuukata staring at him with large blue eyes standing at the bottom of the stairs. The forthcoming insult in his throat was suddenly no longer forthcoming as he caught sight of the friendly, open face, and he found himself feeling as if he could trust the stranger, against his better judgment. And the thought of struggling with Ken's full weight up all those stairs made him weary. What could a little help hurt?

"Aa. That would be greatly appreciated. Thank you very much." he replied formally. The young man nodded and reached out towards Ken gently. Ran stopped him.

"Be careful with that shoulder. It's wounded." he remarked blandly. It was less of a request and more of a threat. He was not going to have Ken wounded further by some random do-gooder's idiocy.

Omi found the action amusing and a little endearing. He simply nodded, and wrapped an arm around the injured man's waist instead. Ran's relief was visible as he felt Ken's weight on him lessening. Ken, however, started in surprise at the feeling of another pair of hands and swiveled his head around clumsily to pin Omi with a somewhat confused gaze.

"Who're you?" the statement was slurred from exhaustion, and Omi smiled empathetically.

"I'm Omi." he said simply. Ken shrugged, with great difficulty, and Omi was a bit surprised at the open trust the young man was giving him.

"I'm Ken. Thanks for helping. I was pretty sure I was gon' havta sleep on the floor down here." he replied easily. On Ken's other side, Ran stiffened, and muttered under his breath about Ken being an idiot. Gods, was he _trying_ to get himself found?

"Heard that." Ken grumbled, swaying unsteadily as they took the first step. The group plunged into silence for a moment while everyone put their concentration into getting Ken up the stairs with as little pain and incident as possible. Omi was considering in his head whether or not he should inform them that he knew Yohji. On the one hand, it might spike their distrust, but on the other hand, if Yohji came around and they saw Omi talking to him in the inn without explanation, things might be bad for him that way too. He reached a conclusion at the same time that they reached the top of the stairs. Ken was panting rather heavily and grimacing. Ran had stopped their party's movement momentarily so the brunette could pull himself together.

"You poor soul. What happened to you?" Omi murmured compassionately. Ran cut in before Ken could say anything. They still hadn't discussed that blabbing Ken's circumstances to the world might be a bad idea.

"He had a run in with some thugs." he replied crisply. Ken snorted but said nothing.

"Oh how terrible for you! I can't believe people would be so cruel!" The emotion in Omi's words was not faked, even if his actions were practiced. He was thinking of Reiji and the things he'd done to Ken so readily. He was thinking of the destruction of lives devoted to justice. He was thinking of the pain Ken must be living every day after what had happened to him. Really, seeing Ken close up only made Omi's passion for his father's cause and his hatred for Takatori deepen.

"Yeah. Bastards." Ken growled with feeling. His body tensed in anger.

"What goes around comes around." Ran replied quietly, almost in Ken's ear. It was an odd sort of comfort; a promise of revenge, and it made Ken's temper ease to hear it.

"You'd better believe it." he replied grimly, although he relaxed all the same. Omi chimed in mentally. Giving Ken the chance at revenge was the least Kritiker could do, he felt. Although how Ran felt about having competition for such a task was a mystery. But Ran said nothing. He seemed neither angry nor delighted. Only relieved as they approached his room door. Ran struggled to look at Omi from beneath Ken's arm.

" Thank you for all your help." he said simply.

"Yeah. Dunno if we woulda' made it without you." Ken drawled sleepily. Omi chuckled as Ran stiffened again, wanting to bite out that they would have done just fine but not wanting to insult Omi's assistance. He settled for giving Ken a scowl that the brunette remained oblivious to.

"Can I help you get him into the room? It might make it easier on the two of you." Omi pressed. Before Ran could reply, Ken's sleepy voice cut in.

"If y' don't mind, that might be good I think…" he trailed off. He looked already as if he were asleep on his feet. His eyes weren't even open anymore, although he was smiling the smallest of smiles. No doubt trying to be polite. Ran was looking exasperated again. How the hell was he supposed to keep Ken safe if the man went about blabbing his name to everyone and trusting complete strangers? He narrowed his eyes at Omi when he heard the light chuckle. Omi ducked his head.

"Sorry." he murmured. Ran would have shrugged heatedly if he wasn't weighed down by a now-dozing Ken. He failed to see anything humorous about this situation. And anyways, his main concern was getting Ken into bed before the man managed to collapse all three of them.

"Oh man. How can he sleep like this!" Omi asked in shock. Ran managed to slide the door open before he turned his head to regard Ken, who was, in fact, asleep now. He sighed heavily but said nothing, only shaking his head.

"You would too if you were in his condition." he replied simply, grateful Ken had accepted Omi's help as they pulled the young man through the entry way, up over the step, and over towards his bed. Ran was relieved to see fresh, crisp linens and a new pillow awaiting them. And another futon for himself. He was suddenly very grateful for Ken's moment of insight.

Omi left Ken with Ran and kneeled to turn down the bed. Ran gently stripped Ken from the yuukata, and Omi politely kept his eyes averted from the nude form, even though he badly wanted to see the depth of the wounds himself. He turned and reached up to help Ran lower Ken's weight to the futon as gently as possible. Ken mumbled incoherently and then sighed in absolute bliss as his skin hit fresh, clean sheets. He smiled slightly and nuzzled the pillow unconsciously. Omi chuckled at the sight.

"Looks like someone's happy to be in bed." he said softly.

"Hn. Thank the Gods. It's where he should have stayed in the first place." Ran grunted. He was going over Ken's body gently and carefully, rubbing salve into wounds and bruises. It would soil the linens, but he didn't care at the moment. Ran turned him onto his belly to allow the wound on his back some time to breathe after all the irritation they'd caused it going up and down the stairs. For now, bandages would stay off. He was running out of fresh ones anyway at this point. Satisfied that no extra damage had been done during the course of their excursion, he reached down to pull the blankets up over the brunette's body. Ken started snoring softly the instant the warmth of the blankets surrounded him, and Ran smiled. He hadn't heard Ken snore before, and took it as a very good sign.

"Ahh, the sleep of the just." Omi said fondly, shaking his head and turning his gaze slowly from Ken to Ran. Ran turned a scrutinizing gaze on him, but Omi bore himself up under it unflinchingly. After several long moments, Ran reached whatever conclusion he'd wanted to reach and he nodded again at Omi.

"Thank you again. It was very kind of you to help strangers." he said softly. Omi felt the slight verbal prod in the word 'strangers' and let a light blush cover his cheeks.

"Actually, um….I'm a friend of Yohji's. He told me about running into Ken and then about leaving him here. I figured that he was being irresponsible about it, so since I was staying here I thought I'd make sure everything was ok. I'm glad it is. And I'm glad I could help." he replied softly, looking at Ken's happily snoring form as he spoke.

Ran's initial anger and suspicion at hearing that Omi was a friend of Yohji's faded when it became apparent that the young man obviously sported the same opinion of Yohji that Ran did. He snorted.

"I wasn't impressed with his methods of care-giving and so relieved him of the responsibility. " he replied dryly. Omi chuckled softly. If he remembered the fight Yohji had described, 'relieved' was an understatement. Playing the part that had unexpectedly found him in what could be considered to be Ran's er…_patient_ graces, Omi nodded.

"I'm glad you did. I think it was for the best." he replied. Ran nodded shortly but said nothing further, and Omi took that as his cue to leave. He rose slowly.

"Well… er…actually I don't think I caught your name…" he remarked politely. Ran snorted but didn't comment.

"Call me Ran. " he said quietly. Omi offered him a friendly smile.

"Well, Ran-san, if you need anymore help, I'm staying right down the hall for the week. Feel free to knock. It's the door all the way at the end." Ran nodded. "I'll show myself out. Hope everything goes well for Ken. " so saying, Omi slid into his slippers and out into the hall. Scooping up his onsen bag, he walked down the stairs quietly, in a better mood than when he'd arrived. It was always much easier being involved with decent people. It always made Omi much happier and more sympathetic. Poor Ken had really taken a beating. Omi couldn't imagine. And he forced himself not to as he let himself into the ofuro. He was going to have a nice, long bath, and then go straight to bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Saa, how was that? I hope it was ok.

I've just got tickets to a Dir en Grey concert:squee: I never thought when I started avidly listening to their music that I would EVER find myself not only in Japan, but going to one of their concerts! Wai! I'm so excited! (And admittedly terrified of getting pummeled by fangirls….and boys…)

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	12. The shitith hath hitith the fanith

Ugh. Okay, please bear with me guys.

A million thank yous to my reviewers. As always, without your input,I think my motivation to continue this story would wane painfully. It's starting to get abstracted and difficult to write now that work and other things are picking up. I'll be leaving the land of the rising sun in August, and preperations are sort of starting now. So all in all the business is leaving this story in the lurch. I'm terribly sorry if the quality, context, and style seem to be warping. If you notice anything that needs tobe dealt with, please let me know. (Or if you just start losing the story...(looks horrified)

Erm...no other notes. :) I think we're all set for those for a little while. Enjoy!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"**_The cat's mistress_**

_**Walks over a crumbled cooking stove**_

**_To a rendezvous"_**

_ Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo Chapter 7**_

It was never to be said that Kudo Yohji did not work hard. Nor that he was poor at what he did. In fact, it was quite the opposite, despite all appearences. However, when the opportunity to have a bit of rest and recreation presented itself, Yohji was not of a mind to refuse it. After his brief visit with Takatori and a further one to a certain ronin that happened to be guarding a certain ninja, Yohji had found himself with a bit of spare time. Takatori was keeping him 'on call'. This basically meant that Yohji was able to enjoy himself while he had his fingers in Takatori's rather fat purse. He simply had to make sure he was easily accessible should Reiji have need of him. Not hard. Yohji left a trail of satisfied women and angry men in his wake. Something that Takatori found endlessly amusing. And something that Omi and Manx found endlessly annoying. Yohji wondered how Persia felt about it but decided that since his behavior hadn't been prohibited, it was probably of little consequence to him.

Recalling the youth who was at this moment working quite hard to put himself into Ran and Ken's confidences, Yohji frowned a bit. Gratefulness at the rest aside, he really wanted to be over with Ken and Ran and Omi, trying to get a handle on things. Somehow, although Ken had been deemed his 'project' (Yohji cringed at that thought), the responsibility had been lifted from him. He knew, of course, that if anything were to happen with Ken that put Kritiker in danger, his head would be next. That knowledge did not make him feel any happier at the fact that he was away from Ken rather than watching the young man. And as capable and as tender that Ran had been, Yohji wondered if the man's stoic and angry personality was the best thing for Ken to be exposed to right now.

Wandering in his thoughts about Ken's emotional welfare, Yohji came to himself long enough to corner his opponent on the small wooden board before him. The white of his piece reflected the lamplight as if it were a tiny light in and of itself. Across from him, the man who had been lured into playing against him snorted and leaned forward to consider a possible means of escape.

A pair of patrons entered the izakaya rowdily, and settled down at the table behind his own. They were rough around the edges, appearances apparently not top priority on their minds. He recognized them the instant they began speaking as a couple of Takatori's lower thugs and idly tuned an ear into their conversation. His opponent moved then, a careful, timid move that hoped to pull him away from the danger of losing round three to Yohji this evening. Yohji contemplated a good way to make the game last longer without seeming to toy with his opponent while he tuned both ears and a bit more of his concentration onto the pair behind him. Once he picked up on things, he immediately wished he hadn't.

"So he's at Fujiyama?"

"Yeah. Seen him there myself, bloody bastard. Going right down to the baths as carefree as ya please. Although he's pretty bad lookin'. Dun know what them foreign pansies did to him but damned if he couldn't even walk without some red-haired fella helpin' him."

"Figures them foreign bastards couldn't even do a simple stupid job right. Takatori ain't gonna be happy 'bout this."

"Nah, but I was thinkin'. That guy sick n' all, why don't we just take care 'a it ourselves? 'D be real easy right now, and I bet we'd get a promotion."

"Y'think? It'd be fun anyway. Real good sport I bet."

There was a pause as both men seemed to consider this. Yohji scowled at the chess board before him darkly. His opponent had somehow turned the tables and was grinning at him smugly. Yohji had allowed himself to be distracted. He sincerely hoped those idiots weren't going to try and attack Ken. It would cause more than a little trouble for all people involved. Including himself and Omi. Not to mention Takatori. Arrogant though the daimyo was, he wasn't _entirely_ stupid. He would not be pleased about an attack orchestrated on the fly without his knowledge; especially one thought out by the likes of the two idiots behind Yohji.

This didn't leave Yohji a whole hell of a lot of choices. He would either have time to warn Ken or inform Takatori. Revealing himself to the men would be moot, as Takatori didn't want anyone to know he was his personal spy.

He scowled at the black pieces surrounding his suddenly few white ones thoughtfully. The answer came suddenly and was so simple Yohji wanted to hit himself. He won the round with one quick move, effectually ending the game. His partner was not exactly eager to lose another round, and thereby lighten his purse any further. Yohji smiled cheerily as he stalked off and poured himself a liberal shot of sake before reaching into one sleeve and pulling out his pipe, tobacco and flint. Oh yes, the answer was quite easy. He'd been too focused on trying to be strategic rather than simply doing what needed to be done. With all the twists and turns his life had taken lately, it was no wonder he seemed to feel that all problems would be difficult to solve.

Yohji stuffed a small amount of tobacco leaves into the pipe and puffed on it as he lit the end. He inhaled deeply, savoring the rich, deep flavor of high-quality tobacco before putting the tobacco pouch and his flint back into his sleeve. He continued to listen to the conversation, idly marveling at how these men seemed to have no qualms with talking about this sort of thing, even going so far as to use Takatori's actual name, in public. With himself directly behind them. Where did Takatori _find_ these people? He took another deep puff on his pipe as his brain grabbed onto the details of their plan with an iron grip. He sorted through the information and held on to only what he needed. Best not to fill his head with too much stupidity lest it start to affect his own ability to think clearly. He only needed to know where they were going and when. Because they would simply never get there. He was just going to have to be careful about which point in their plans would be his striking point. He wasn't sure just yet if he wanted Takatori to know that he would be the one responsible for their demise. While he was a spy for Takatori, Yohji was still an assassin for Kritiker. And while Takatori would probably not raise an eyebrow at the knowledge of Yohji so freely eliminating his employees, Yohji felt it was best to remain a spy and not a spy-turned-assasin. Part of his initial block in how to solve the problem. All in all, Yohji decided that while the intruigue of being a double spy had its moments, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be either. It got to be rather confusing at times.

The men rose and departed just as Yohji was finishing off his pipe. He sat in the quiet of the nearly empty izakaya, and savored the last of the tobacco. Finally, he cleaned his pipe carefully and put it back inside his sleeve. Swallowing the last of his sake, he rose gracefully and paid his bill with his rather heavy purse (full of the night's winnings…), winking and flirting with the cute waitress behind the counter. She blushed a lovely shade of rose and favored him with a shy, sweet smile that warmed his chest. He felt his fondness for women pull him towards that smile, but the duties set before him that evening held him back.

He padded gracefully to the entrance, aware of her eyes on him the entire time, and slid like a cat onto the step in the doorway, reaching for his shoes. He slid them on, fastened his haori, re-fastened his katana above his wakezashi, and strode from the door as easily as a man in search of an evening of entertainment. Which to Yohji, it would be. There were few things in life that pleased him as much as having an excuse to off anyone associated with Takatori. He smiled grimly, turning down a dark street that was more an alley than anything else and reached inside his sleeve in a small, secret pocket for his razor wire. It felt cool and reassuringly deadly in his finger tips. He palmed it into his hand as two silhouettes came into view in the distance. He prowled through the shadows like a panther; lethal, restrained, grace, ready to pounce in the most deadly of playful manners.

'_Oh yes_', he thought as he crept upon them silently '_there are definitely fewer things that I enjoy as much as I enjoy this_'

There was a quiet whisper of metal in the stillness, but it didn't matter. The men didn't even have the time to comprehend they were being attacked.

OoOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOoO

Manx frowned impatiently at the smooth black-lacquered table top before her. Neither her tea nor the elegantly painted Kyoto harbor decorating the table top gave her any answers to the thoughts running circles in her brain. She studied the delicately painted cheery blossom petals as they blew across merchants and geisha, ships and bridges; frozen in time forever. She wondered idly what that same scene would look like to someone a hundred years from now. Provided the table was still in tact. Already, the brilliant gold lacquer was beginning to fade. All things, eventually, faded from view. Some simply sooner than others. Manx turned her attention back to the cloudy green tea in her cup, obscuring the small brown koi painted at the bottom of it. The murky green stood in contrast to the delicate violet of her kimono. She hadn't been able to drink a drop of it yet.

She'd been waiting here for a good half hour since she'd received the urgent message by carrier pigeon in her bedroom window. Yohji had wanted to meet with her 'at her earliest convenience'. That meant something was up. Yohji did not call for emergency meetings unless he had very good reason to. Manx wondered wryly if he'd been discovered. Or perhaps had discovered _another_ survivor. In any case, this meeting was several days too early.

She had canceled apprentice lessons with Sakura-chan to come here and wait, and she was getting agitated the longer she sat in the silence. Specifically because the longer Yohji remained absent the more creative her brain became in coming up with _reasons_ as to why he might be absent. Most of the things her mind had come up with were not pretty. Manx refused to admit that she was worrying over _Balinese's_ safety and instead assured herself she was only worried about what this could mean for Kritiker's plans. It never paid to become emotionally involved with one's employees. It was a hard battle Manx fought constantly. Particularly when it came to Omi. There were times when she didn't want to send the youth out for fear of the danger he faced. And things were becoming so dangerous lately.

A sudden soft knock at the door startled her from her thoughts so severely she jumped slightly.

"Who is it?" she barked impatiently. Yohji slid the door aside without further preamble and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. She waited in silence while he glided across the tatami and adjusted himself before her at the table, the pale grey of his kimono looking slightly rumpled. It bore only three crests. But the slight dishevelment probably meant that Yohji had not slept the previous evening. A bad sign. He was usually quite vain in his appearance, and took pride in looking his best. Manx couldn't argue that he was certainly something to look on; especially when he was well dressed.

"What, no refreshments?" he quipped, giving her a half grin. "A man can't have a secret rendez-vous with a pretty lady unless there're plenty of delicious refreshments involved to ease his tired mind."

Whatever rebuke Manx had to that remark remained in her throat when she noticed the smirk was forced and did not reach even the rest of his face, let alone his eyes. Yohji was in a grave mood indeed.

"Well? What have you called me here so abruptly for? I am a busy woman, Balinese." she ground out in a clipped voice, ignoring his remark altogether instead.

The smile fell instantly from Yohji's face. Not a good sign, Manx decided.

" No sake then? Alright. I'll give it to you straight: the shit is now in the process of hitting the fan." he began, favoring her with another dead smirk. Manx raised her eyebrows.

"How so?" she demanded. Yohji took a deep breath and let it out slowly before pressing on.

"Last night I had to take out a couple of Reiji's lower-class lackeys before they could, in turn, take out Ken. I don't know how many of Takatori's people know, or who else is planning to try anything, but the cat is out of the bag. I'm going to have to tell Reiji now _myself_ that Ken is alive. He won't too happy to hear it, but it'll be worse if he hears it from one of his groundlings, and not _me_." Manx nodded.

"I see. This is a problem. Bombay has only just made contact with the two other…_kittens…_, and I don't know if he has enough sway with them yet to convince them of anything other than the fact that he means no harm. But they will have to be moved somewhere more secure immediately." she replied, lapsing into silence as she thought. Yohji frowned across from her, searching his thoughts as well. Finally, Manx looked up.

"You will tell Reiji that Kritker has saved the ninja and is keeping watch over him. You will also tell him that Kritiker is responsible for the death of those two idiots. Any instructions that Reiji gives you from that point come straight to me, and you will follow all of them to the letter. I _do not_, I repeat _do not_ want you to do anything on your own. No heroics of any kind. Leave Ken's safety to Bombay and I, at all costs." She spoke firmly, looking directly into his eyes. She could see in his face his dislike of the order. Something inside of her softened slightly.

"Balinese…. We'll take care of him…At this stage, assuring you don't get caught is the bigger priority. Reiji _cannot_ find out that you are the reason Ken is alive. If you do anything to go against his wishes in this matter, he will be that much closer to finding the truth. And anything done behind his back will be your death warrant if it is discovered. As it is, rescuing that man in the first place with Schwartz around was risky enough." she murmured quietly. Yohji could _not_ get caught. She knew he would never betray Kritiker, but she would not wish the tortures of an enraged Reiji pushed onto anyone; let alone Yohji.

"And if he sends Schwartz to deal with Ken?" he replied quietly. Manx's head snapped back up to look at him.

" You will do _nothing_ against Schwartz, do you understand me?" she growled out, glaring full force into jade-green eyes. Yohji nodded, although he was scowling. "Good. Now hurry up and get to Reiji before things get even more out of hand than they have already. I will be awaiting your response to me, and I will expect reports of the developments as often as you can send them." The tone in her voice was a dismissal and brooked no argument. Yohji gave her none. He simply bowed, dark expression easing painfully into a carefree, mischievous one that she knew he did not want to wear at the moment.

"See you around." he said lightly as he left. Once he slid the door shut and his lithe footsteps receded, Manx allowed her expression to soften briefly once again. No matter what he was, Yohji was nothing if not a kind, chivalrous soul at heart. She knew he felt personally responsible for Ken, and not being able to take care of the man himself had bothered Yohji. Like most who worked for Kritiker, the idea of yet another decent soul claimed by the dark corruption surrounding them was enough to move anyone to action. She was only too relieved that Yohji had a patience and restraint that delved far beyond the capacities of most normal men. She knew she could trust him to do as instructed. At this moment, his life meant far more to her than the life of a ninja she'd never met.

With a sigh, she rose and left the room as well, hurrying down the hall to see to more pressing matters outside of her own mental run-around.

Her tea sat ignored on the table, slowly growing cold.

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO

Well, sorry so short, but it was a good place to end this chapter. Stay tuned!


	13. Stirring the waters

Whew! On a roll! No school visits for another week, so I'll try to advance the story as much as possible. Again, a big thank you to all my reviewers!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"**_At night, quietly_**

**_A worm in the moonlight_**

**_Digs into a chesnut."_**

_Matsuo Basho_

**_Edo, Chapter 7B_**

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

By the time Yohji had gotten himself on the road to Takatori's, it was late afternoon. He didn't arrive at Reiji's holdings until nearly one in the morning. He crept stealthily over the foreboding-looking heavy wooden walls and into the yard. Weaving through the shadows, he crept up to the back door and knocked once. The servant who answered the door looked quite sleepily rumpled and thoroughly annoyed, but he made no remark and simply showed Yohji inside.

He was shown to a cold, dimly lit room with nothing in it save a small lantern and he sank tiredly to the tatami while the servant went off in search of his master. It had been a long, tiring journey, made even longer by the fact that this was Yohji's second night of no sleep. Last night had been spent disposing of the two rather large and heavy bodies he had dispatched, and the duration of his time since then had been spent riding hard from place to place. He wanted nothing more than to curl up on the floor right here and sleep.

It was not long before he was summoned to see Takatori. When he arrived at Takatori's private rooms, he was received with a grave, and somewhat annoyed face.

"I hope you aren't bringing me bad news." Takatori said darkly. Yohji's smile was grim.

" 'Fraid so." he replied. Takatori remained silent before him, simply waiting. He did not invite Yohji to sit, or have tea, or sake, and this put Yohji in a slight unease. He wore his night yuukata, and hadn't bothered with his haori, telling Yohji that he'd hurried from bed. His hair was wild-looking and unkempt, and one of his side-burns stuck out quite a distance from his face while the other was flat against his cheek. If the situation was no so serious, Yohji might have allowed himself to be amused. Not that he looked much better in his three-day old clothing.

He cleared his throat in the silence and decided the direct approach was the best. "It seems that a survivor has been discovered from the attack on the village, although he's badly wounded." Yohji had almost used the word 'massacre' instead of 'attack'. That would not have gone over very well. He was quite surprised when Takatori's expression eased suddenly into one of grumpy relief.

"Is _that_ all? Gods man, you had me all worked up, coming here in the dead of night. Sit down, sit down. You could have waited until morning for this." he grumped, waving a hand carelessly at the empty seat before him. He bellowed loudly for a servant to bring tea. Yohji sat, silently releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Yes sir, but I felt it was urgent. You see, I overheard about this from two of your lower men. Sir, they were discussing it openly in a public izakaya, and they even used your name freely in the discussion. Fortunately, I was the only one near enough to hear." Yohji pressed on, sinking onto the satin zabuton Reiji indicated gratefully. Gods, he _hated_ calling Takatori 'sir', but sometimes it had to be done. Takatori's frown deepened again at this bit of news.

"Bloody idiots. I hope you did away with them." he grumbled. A servant entered with a tray bearing two cups of tea and a small pot. She was young and looked rather nervous. Takatori gave her a whack on the rump as she departed and she squeaked, jumping nearly a mile high. " A little faster next time." he grumbled. The poor girl nodded quickly and excused herself. Beneath the table, Yohji's fist clenched tightly as his other hand served tea to Takatori and then himself. _Bloody fucking bastard_, he thought darkly. But he turned his mind to the conversation at hand instead.

"They were dead before I arrived to do just that." Yohji replied soberly. "Right in the alley. Apparently, _Kritiker_ is guarding this guy. I can't imagine what they want with him." If Yohji thought that final bit of news was going to ruffle Takatori, he was quite surprised. The man just snorted.

"Saved us both a headache then. It's no surprise they're all over him. That bloody clan was loyal to that bastard of an emperor. Probably think like they're going to be getting some kind of allegiance from the damn ninja. Probably think they owe him too. In any case, I don't give a shit why. To be safe, however, I'll have him eliminated. No sense in having a thorn in my backside." he grumbled, with the enthusiasm of a man who'd been woken in the middle of the night for no good reason. Yohji didn't know if he wanted to laugh or be disgusted. A little of both he supposed. He wondered, briefly, how Takatori had made it as far as he had. He decided as he recalled the insults the man had just spewed that it was rather unlucky that he _had_ managed to make it this far.

He pressed on carefully, not really wanting to ask his next question, but having to out of duty. His next course of action depended on the answer. No matter what Manx said, Yohji was _not_ going to kill Ken or Ran. Not without good reason. Kritiker could find themselves another double agent. He drew the line at committing the very crimes for Takatori that Kritiker was trying to prevent.

"Do you want me to take care of it?" He was proud of how casual he sounded. As if he were bored. Takatori snorted again.

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't need to be dirtying your hands doing menial work like that. I didn't hire you to be an assassin. And if Kritiker caught you, you could kiss your ass goodbye. I thought you had more sense than that Yohji." he growled. Yohji raised an eyebrow, relief allowing his casual nature to take complete control once more.

"Sorry. Figured since I was_ supposed_ to be with Kritiker it might be easier for me to do." he replied easily, sipping his tea gratefully. Takatori shook his head.

"Maybe, but it's too much of a risk. Don't worry about it anymore; I'll take care of it. Wouldn't want you to lose your head over something as stupid as that." he grumbled. Yohji chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"What _will_ you do then?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone. Takatori shrugged.

"I'll send out more capable men to take care of it. You said he was badly injured. It shouldn't be too difficult." he replied, airily waving his hand about as if there were an annoying fly before him that he were shooing. Yohji nodded in approval and smiled again into his tea.

"Terribly sorry to be shocking you for nothing. I hope I didn't interrupt anything _too_ serious." he quipped. Takatori grinned. As a matter of fact you _did_, you damn devil, and I'm almost tempted to kick you out and make you find an inn to rest your sorry carcass in for the night." he growled, although without malice. Yohji's smile widened even as he fought to keep from telling Takatori that he'd much rather stay at an inn than beneath the same roof as the man.

" Well, it would serve me right I suppose." he replied casually. Takatori shook his head in annoyance.

"No, no. You were only doing your job, I can't hold that against you, as much as I'd like to. But now that the 'crisis' has past, I'm going back to bed. Stay in any room you want. But make sure you aren't found tomorrow morning. It was bad enough coming to my house in the dead of night…" he trailed off. Yohji nodded.

" Wouldn't dream of it. Night Takatori."

"Hmph. Goodnight yourself." and with that, Takatori was gone. Yohji heaved a sigh and forced himself up and out of the room. He located the room closest to the back door and settled in the darkness on cold tatami for a night of no sleeping while pretending to be asleep. He tried to reassure himself with the fact that things could have been worse. Somehow though, laying there in the dark with the disturbing sounds of Takatori's night-recreation echoing throughout the house, Yohji couldn't take comfort in that thought. He hoped it wasn't that poor little maid in Takatori's bed. The thought made his blood boil.

Suddenly, he was assaulted by the memory of Ran, on one knee, his sword hilt in hand ready to slice his Yohji's head off, and he smiled; a real smile. He felt his worry gently ebb away. Somehow, he'd forgotten about Ran in all this. Ran, who was perfectly healthy and lethally skilled, without a doubt. Yohji suspected that anyone who tried to attack Ken would be very, very sorry, and he took consolation in the thought.

"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Yeah, Takatori is really, really rude to Yohji by any standards in this chapter, but especially by Japanese standards. Poor Yohji ne? And what will become of our dear Kenken? (Heh….actually, maybe we should be worrying about the lackeys sent to attack him?)

Ack. In other news, I want to apologize for a lot of the mistakes I keep finding after I post. I don't have any beta readers (Aside from HeatherR, whose praise keeps my confidence afloat…) and so can't catch everything. I'm also sorry for any inconsistencies in the story. Because of time and internet restrictions, I can only type the story as I go. Hopefully, it won't get too disjointed. Thank you to all of you, once again, who have reviewed. I say it every time, but your comments keep this fic going! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And nukiuchi-Saitama! Wow, lucky you! There's a reason I'm leaving already. Come live in Aomori on the Tsugaru penisula and then we should talk-I WISH I lived in Saitama. I'd probably be staying for longer if I did. Are you near the Edo Mura? I wanna visit there soon. I was looking up some Ryokans in the area...

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	14. How it will happen when

Next Chapter…and it's off to Iwasaki for my own ofuro fun!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"**_There was a night, too,_**

**_When a robber visited my home—_**

**_The year end."_**

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 8**_

**__**

Omi stalked darkly down the hallway, cursing fluidly under his breath, the ink-black sleeves of his silk kimono billowing behind him in the speed with which he walked. With a growl, he snapped his black fan shut and tucked it in his sleeve, reaching for the door before him and sliding it open in a restrained manner. It was a near thing he avoided slamming it shut behind him.

The room within was tiny; almost dingy, and dimly lit by a single candle. Carefully, he slid aside a small black table and tugged sharply on the bright red satin border of one of the tatami mats beneath. Instead of giving-way with a rip, the entire mat came up as if it weighed nothing, revealing a door beneath. Omi grabbed the iron handle and yanked it upwards, struggling with the heavy wood it was attached to. It opened to reveal several a large storage space which contained wooden trunks and boxes of various heights and shapes, all locked. Omi reached out for a long, flat box, its wood scarred and older than many of the other boxes around it. He set it on the ground in front of him carefully, so as not to make any noise. Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled a ring of keys out and it clattered quietly for a moment as he searched for the right one.

He jammed it home into the lock and turned it just so to the left, and without any effort the lock popped open. Omi set it aside and reverently opened the lid.

Nestled within on well-kept black silk was a set of about two dozen finely made shuriken of various shapes and sizes. They gleamed brightly, even in the dull light of the room, and Omi fingered them fondly as he smiled wistfully, a grim edge to the expression. Carefully, he selected twelve of varying heights and shapes, and immediately concealed them within specially-made parts of his kimono. Closing the lid and locking the box once more, he set it back inside the trap door and pulled another, larger box out. This one was a bit deeper, and not as long, and the wood was not scarred or old. In fact, it looked rather new, and the box was covered in a black lacquer inlayed with small pictures made from mother of pearl. Omi brushed a finger over the iridescent shape of a koi, absently feeling its texture as he removed the lock.

He lifted the lid to reveal a set of long, wicked-looking daggers, along with their simply decorated sheathes. He carefully removed the daggers and sheathed them, secreting them in his wide, long sleeves, before turning and lifting the tray to reveal a set of _kunai_, which he also removed and tucked into special places in his hakama.

Task complete and his anger cooled, Omi carefully put the box back and set the room to rights. When he was finished, it was impossible to tell, even to the most trained eye, that there had been anything amiss. Nodding in satisfaction, he exited; sliding the door shut behind him, and went in search of Manx.

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO

He found her in the same room he had left her, scowling at some sort of image on a folding fan. It looked, from where Omi was standing in the doorway, to be a very detailed and finely-made painting. As he approached, Manx looked up, here eyes locking on his. She stood without flourish, snapping the fan shut and presenting it to him. Omi took it without question and opened it. It took him several moments to realize he was staring at a cleverly disguised map. It looked like the same harbor painted on the table Manx conducted their meetings at. He looked back up at her, grinning.

"Birman's getting good at this." he remarked jovially. Manx nodded.

"There are several places on there that are Kritiker-governed. You judge what they sell or offer by looking the figure they are represented by. The Fishmonger and Merchant represent safe tea houses and inns respectively. Those koi right there are places to get food without having to worry about pay. The Geisha with the purse is a place to get money, should you need it, and the woman holding the red umbrella is a Kritiker-owned brothel with capacity to hide you in the event of an emergency, as well as a wealth of local gossip and information. The sakura blossoms and their petals represent areas of danger or risk. Avoid them. You will be careful. If they give you trouble or put you or this mission at risk, you will kill them or lose them, is that understood?" she replied, the steel in her voice harder and sharper than any sword. Omi merely nodded. Manx tended to get this way when things got hairy, and Omi knew it was best to refrain from talking.

"Good. Get going now. Wait for a bit and see what Takatori's men do. When things get too risky, do what you can to get the three of you away and hidden from Takatori's sights. Persia wants this ninja alive. He's taken an interest in him. I don't have to tell you why. Do not fail." Omi nodded again, grimly. Suddenly, Manx's expression softened just slightly.

"And Bombay; remember, there is no failure in making sure that you are alive and in one piece. If you have to kill them, do not consider it a failure. I am sure Persia would grieve your loss to Kritiker over the loss of two strangers." she concluded. Omi favored her with a small smile, knowing that what Manx had really meant was that she and his father were not happy with the outlook of such a rushed mission and were worried for him. Probably Yohji too. Omi himself was worried about Yohji; in the lion's den at this very moment. He would have taken his job over Yohji's any day.

"Of course, Manx." he replied with a nod of his head.

"Good. Then off you go. And I want word of the events as often as can be spared. I've told Balinese the same." Omi frowned at the mention of Yohji.

"Manx…will Balinese be alright?" he asked tentatively, concern laced in his voice. Manx nodded.

"He'll have to be. Now go. We'll be fine if everyone does as they're told." she prodded him towards the door. Omi snapped the fan shut and tucked it away in his sleeve as she slid the door shut behind him. He headed down the hall and then out into the dark of the night, mind sobered by the recent turn of events. Takatori had found out about Ken. And he was, as predicted, trying to be rid of the man as soon as possible. And, as predicted, he was too cocky to truly understand the depth and means Kritiker had to keep Ken safe. And that was, of course, not including Ran himself. Omi suspected Ran alone could dispatch with any lackeys Takatori might send. They could only hope the attacks would be so obvious.

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO

Shiori was nervous. She was beyond nervous. Despite the new, and rare heaviness of her purse, the thoughts of what she was doing ran through her head like frightened children, and she felt her conscience balking. But money was money. And she needed it badly. _Besides_, she thought, as she balanced the tray stacked with food and kneeled before the ronin's door, _it wasn't as if _she_ was driving the killing blow into the men's flesh herself. _They_ were the ones who would choose to eat it._ The mantra reassured her as she knocked and was bid to enter.

The room was dimly lit, but she could see the two men clearly. The ronin scowled at her from beneath a crimson fringe, his strange purple eyes shadowed in the lantern light. He sat between the two futons, closer to the one on the left, presumably to be nearer to the sick man that laid in it, curled on his side, blankets to his chin. His eyes were closed, and she felt a sense of relief at that. If his eyes had been open, Shiori was certain it would have increased her nervousness ten-fold. She did not think she would have been able to complete her task beneath the eyes of a sick man. As it was, being beneath that ronin's stare was enough. She nearly dropped the tray as she knelt to set it down before him, and apologized. He snorted and said nothing, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. She went gladly, and felt her mind ease the moment the door slid shut behind her. It was out of her hands now….

OOooOOooOOooOOooOOooOO

Ran reached eagerly for the tray in front of him. It had been at least a day and a half since the ofuro incident, and the pace of Ken's healing seemed to be accelerating. Apparently, a bath had been a very good idea. It made Ran feel strange as he watched Ken recovering, and he tried not to dig too deeply into those emotions. He decided he felt only relief that they could begin hunting Takatori soon. Ran didn't let himself feel anything deeper than that.

With a recovering Ken, that meant that the food selection had gone back to more regular things, and Ran had never been more happy in his life to get his hands on some soup with actual vegetables in it. Ken was sleeping, and since Ran didn't have the heart to wake him (and wanted to get some food into himself before he had to help Ken), he removed the lid from a bowl of miso quietly, and cupped it in both hands as he brought the steaming liquid towards his mouth.

"Don't." the hoarse, quiet whisper startled him so badly he nearly spilled hot soup all over himself. He turned an impressive glower on Ken.

"If you don't mind, I'm fucking _hungry_." he replied curtly. Ken chuckled softly; a dry, bitter sound, full of ironic humor.

"Eat that and you won't live long enough to see breakfast." he replied, voice still soft and weak. Ran blinked at him, before carefully lowering the bowl back to the tray. He glowered at it for good measure before turning the expression on Ken, waiting for the man to elaborate.

"That food is poisoned. Probably heavily." he continued. Ran blinked at him again in slight surprise.

"How do you know that?" he asked softly. Ken's smile was bitter.

" I'm a ninja, remember? I assassinate people for a living. Part of the job is reading body language. That maid was very, _very_ nervous. More than they usually are when they come-around." he chuckled. Ran thought on it and realized that the maid _had_ been nervous, but in an unusual kind of way. Instead of blushing and stuttering, she had been silent and unblinking; face full of determination instead of fear. He heard Ken break out into a cough beside him. Instantly, he turned and had Ken in his arms sitting upright. He froze the cup halfway to the man's lips and glowered suspiciously at it.

"Probably not the best idea. When was it brought?" Ken croaked beside him, also eyeing the cup.

"Hn. An hour ago." Ken shook his head slowly.

"Nope, put it back. Looks like we've worn out our welcome." he quipped, coughing raggedly. Ran frowned at him, slowly setting the cup aside. Ken needed water. He needed more than that. This, was a _very_ big problem. They were in alarmingly immediate danger. Ken was probably being stalked at the very moment, and by default, Ran himself. They needed to get out of here, and quickly. But that involved moving quickly. Ken would be lucky if he could walk down the stairs with just Ran helping him, let alone travel far and fast. For the first time in two years, Ran was unsure of what to do. And that made him nervous. Especially for Ken. Ran didn't like being nervous for someone else. It set him on edge double time when he was. It meant that that person was getting beneath his skin, and as much as Ran was committed to helping Ken, getting emotionally involved was something completely different. Although a small voice in his head taunted him that he'd already become emotionally involved. Ran told that voice to go to hell.

"Go. You'd better get out of here. Things are probably gonna get ugly real soon. Get out while you've got the chance." Ken said softly. He was sitting up fully and looked to be gathering the strength to stand. Ran looked at him and considered. The logical part of his brain agreed. It had been ludicrous to stay here so long, caring for a stranger; to put himself into harm's way for this man was unacceptable. However, something deep within him, likely the very same thing that had led him to care for Ken as he had, was furious that Ken had even suggested the idea. Ran realized it was that part of him that was running his actions at the moment. Oddly, he didn't really care. His thoughtful expression turned into a glare and he pushed the shakily rising Ken back down to the futon. Brown eyes full of surprise and confusion stared up at him.

"I have to go. I don't expect you to risk your—"

"I am not a coward, and I don't give a fuck _what_ you expect of me, I will not leave you. Do you think I made all this effort just to give up so easily?" he barked. The confusion in Ken's eyes deepened, and fear began to mingle with it.

"Look, I'm sorry you made all the effort so it could be wasted, but Gods dammit Ran, this is your _life_ we're talking about." he growled. Yes. That was desperation in his voice. Ran wondered at it.

"It _is_ my life and I will do as I please with it, and if you seek to insult me further by implying that I would so callously throw _your_ life away after everything I've gone through, then I will be forced to retaliate." he shot back. Fear bloomed into panic, and Ken shot back upright.

"Ran, I can't protect you, you _can't_ die because of me! Do you understand? You _can't_! I couldn't take it…"Ken's voice rose in pitch and fervor and he began rocking slightly. Ah. Is _that_ what this was all about?

"I am insulted you think so little of my skill. I do not need to be protected by a sick man. Even a woman could do better than you at this point." he snapped back, having had enough of Ken's nonsense. The remark turned out to have been a wise choice as anger replaced the fear in Ken's eyes. It did not, however, replace the panic.

"I'm not _that_ fucking helpless you bastard!" Ken snarled, fists balling. Ran raised a meaningful eyebrow in his direction and looked over his bruised, scarred body. Ken flushed red in embarrassment and glared. He opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut, turning his head abruptly and staring at the blanket over his legs, jaw working in anger. Ran waited for him to come to his senses while he took a deep breath, so they could finally make a decision on a course of action. Instead, once he had seemingly steadied himself, Ken threw the blankets aside with a vicious toss. Both Ran's eyebrows went up.

"What are you doing?" he grunted. Ken didn't answer him. In fact, Ken refused to look at him as he shakily rose to his feet. He ambled across the room and threw the closet open. Ran watched him struggle and wince as he put on his hakama and realized that Ken was cursing his weakness under his breath. His hands shook while he tied the torn, bloody garment in place around his waist. He gave the ties a final, firm tug and winced as they tightened.

Watching Ken, Ran realized belatedly that he had just suffered another attack of temper. And that his mouth had once again gone off without clearance from his brain. Shit. That had been rather poorly done of him; especially in the face of Ken berating himself for being a failure over the loss of his clan and lord. There hadn't been anything the man could have done to prevent it, yet somehow Ken saw his inability to do so as inordinately weak.

Ran sighed heavily as Ken went about trying to bend over and gather his weapons into his hakama. He wasn't having much luck, and the way he flinched and grimaced silently with most movements gave Ran a sudden attack of heavy guilt. No, that hadn't been well-done of him at all. When Ken's entire body went from trembling to shuddering, Ran rose with a heavy sigh and went to him. Ken ignored him. Ran reached up and put a hand on the man's shoulder. Ken flinched away and lost his balance, colliding with the closet door. He gave a small cry of pain as he hit and then cursed himself under his breath for it. Gods, the man was a mess.

"Ken…I didn't mean it that way." Ken snorted and didn't look up from the floor.

"You didn't have to." he grunted. Ran was right. If he couldn't protect himself, then how could he hope to protect Ran? He had to leave. Ken had never felt so ashamed in his life. Ran had accused him of being weaker than a woman. A _woman_. Sadly, Ken knew it was true. Gods, this was so humiliating. He couldn't even dress himself properly without flinching all over the place.

Ran frowned, wondering how he was supposed to get Ken back into his right head and get them out of here when the man wouldn't even listen to an apology.

"What is that supposed to mean?" his tone sounded more barbed than he'd intended. Ken gave another bitter laugh that ended in a cough. Ran didn't know? He'd just said it himself; Ken was weak. He was helpless. He may as well have been a child for everything that Ran had had to do for him. And now to have Ran's reasoning thrown in his face; to know that Ran was only caring for him because he saw Ken as helpless as a woman, it was too much. He should have tried harder to stop himself from leaning on Ran, from thinking of the man as a comrade. Hadn't he learned the first time he'd been to weak to save his men? What made him think that he could stay with Ran like this and avoid the same fate. No, Ken was not about to let history repeat itself.

"You've been taking care of me because you think I'm too weak to take care of myself." He said simply, deciding that maybe if he could get Ran angry enough the man would leave. It wasn't hard to do. Ken was angry already, and was almost never able to control his mouth when he was.

Ran's frown deepened. Well….yes. Why else would he have taken care of Ken? Before he voiced the question, Ken spoke up once more, softer this time.

"Is that all this was? You hit me and saw that I was already weak and felt it was your fucking duty to take care of me? Is that why you wanted me to stay with you? So you could feel good about yourself? Have control over someone else? You think when I heal I'm gonna be some kind of fucking _pansy_? That you're gonna have to watch over me like I'm some fucking emotional _woman_?" Ran's bewilderment evaporated into rage very quickly. Ken was making all of his good effort sound like some sort of sick sport to humiliate him. Ran was not that kind of man. And the thought that _anyone_ could think otherwise, could think that he was like that _slime_ Takatori…

Sick of Ken refusing to look at him, Ran grabbed the man by the shoulders and turned him towards himself with a vicious movement. One of his hands grabbed Ken's chin roughly and forced the man to look up at him, not caring that Ken's head hit the back of the closet with a loud 'crack' as he did so. He brought his face within centimeters of the ninja's, teeth bared in a growl.

"If you think to accuse me, for even one moment, of playing with you and humiliating you for my own gods-dammed sport after all that I have done for you, I will not think _twice_ about granting your suicide wish." Ken returned the glare just as fiercely, his own teeth bared, and in his anger, Ran missed the calculating light beneath the rage in Ken's eyes.

"Then if I'm not here to amuse you, why are you so insistent about keeping me around? Are you trying to bring me in your debit?" he hissed in reply. Before Ran could think, he slammed Ken back into the closet, rattling the door. Ken, to his credit, grit his teeth and did not make a sound. He did not break eye-contact either. As Ran stared into molten brown eyes flashing with irrational rage, he felt the urge to just drop Ken and walk away overwhelm him. At the very least, Ran felt that Ken's childish antics did not deserve a response. Surely Ken was not worth this slander on his honor.

"Maybe I _should_ just leave you then…if you can think something like that after all this time, then you deserve it…" he growled quietly. He missed the faint triumphant light in dark brown eyes. Anything else either man wanted to say was cut-off in the next moment.

The door to their room flew open unannounced. Ran and Ken's heads snapped to the entryway at a startled-sounding squeak. Omi stood there, blushing fiercely and looking anywhere except the two of them.

"Uhh…I'm sorry to interrupt….but umm….I felt it was important." he muttered, looking at the floor. Ran pondered agitatedly about Omi not meeting their eyes for all of about three seconds before he realized _why_ Omi wasn't meeting their eyes. He looked down to see Ken's eyes, a mere three or four centimeters away, averted to the wall beyond Ran's shoulder, a hot blush covering his cheeks. Ken was panting and sweating with the exertion of the bit of rough-housing he'd endured as well as standing upright for so long on his own. Ran could feel the hot breath on his cheeks and smell the faint tinge of sweat and something vaguely smoky. In the light from the hall, he could see the features of Ken's face set in deep misery, which not even anger could not hide.

He realized then what Ken had been doing. And he also realized he had played along perfectly. He had been on the verge of just leaving Ken to fend for himself; hurt and alone. Ken was afraid of staying with him. Afraid that somehow Ran was going to end up like the people in his village. Afraid that he would have more blood on his hands.

Ran could understand the fear, he could even understand the sentiment behind it. But that did not stop his anger. Ken was going to have to learn sooner or later that the only man he was responsible for was himself. Ran decided then and there that if he taught Ken nothing else, he would be sure that Ken learned to be responsible for only himself.

He didn't know if he should be angry with Ken or himself for their argument. In the end his own guilt won out. Ken was sick and out of his right-mind and emotionally broken. Ran was not. He had no excuse. Ignoring Omi, he leaned forward a few centimeters, closing the gap between them. He could feel Ken's chest heaving against his own, the breaths somewhat irregular, and the man's heart seemed to be trying to frantically beat it's way out of Ken's chest and into his own. He endeavored to ignore it as he whispered softly into Ken's ear.

"I will not leave you. So stop trying. Do not underestimate me, and do not abuse my honor to accomplish your schemes." he smiled slightly as he felt Ken's body shudder at the sensation of his hot breath, and suddenly the closeness of their bodies in the absence of anger hit him full force. Ran was finding it very hard to pull away. He could feel every movement, every breath, the trembling of Ken's muscles beneath his own. Ken's body was warm, and the breath in his ear hitched slightly as Ran allowed himself to inch the slightest bit closer. Without thinking, Ran's tongue darted out to lick his suddenly dry lips, catching Ken's earlobe slightly in the process. A small shudder passed through the body beneath him, and leaning in for another, fuller taste seemed like a marvelous idea to Ran, the salt of Ken's skin still lingering on his tongue.

Omi cleared his throat pointedly, saving Ran from perhaps embarrassing himself further, and Ran came to his senses with a scowl. Ken jolted beneath him, as if coming to himself in surprise, but was too drained to move away from Ran at the moment. Ran did not move either, and he told himself it was only because he did not want Ken to collapse. He looked over at Omi pointedly. The young man had the grace to blush in embarrassment and look away to the wall quickly.

"Knock next time." he growled. Omi nodded, wondering what the hell it was he'd just seen. Those two certainly hadn't wasted _any_ time.

"I-I'm sorry, but this is an emergency." he replied slowly. He shut the door and walked inside carefully, as if afraid he would be bitten. Ran's scowl deepened at the invasion of their personal sanctuary, especially in light of recent events, but said nothing. Omi did not seem as the type to take such invasions lightly.

"Downstairs, in the dining-room, I heard several men talking about Ken." Omi nodded a head in the ninja's direction for emphasis. Ran's entire body tensed over him and Ken wondered what it meant. He could already plainly guess what sort of news Omi was delivering, and he was surprised to see Ran reacting so tensely. Perhaps the man had not been as prepared for a sneak attack as Ken had thought. Ken thanked whatever deities were listening at that moment that he had been around to stop Ran from poisoning himself.

"And what did they have to _say_?" Ran ground out from somewhere above him. Ken studied the pale throat in front of him absently, trying very hard to keep his brain from drifting back to the feel of Ran's body pressed against his or the memory of Ran's warm, moist tongue on his ear lobe. Omi looked a bit more nervous.

"I thought I should warn you… they said something about poison…you two haven't eaten anything, have you?" Ran's expression turned slightly softer and Ken gave Omi a cheerful grin.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm still useful for _something_ these days." he replied easily, but Omi detected some sort of hidden meaning behind it. Ran's expression twitched once, but did not leave its current glare otherwise. There was a promise of retribution in the brief glower directed Ken's way, driving Omi's curiosity much higher than it had been before. Pushing it aside, he pressed on hastily.

" I fear it won't be that easy Ken-san. They'll be coming up to make sure the job's done…" he trailed off. If he was expecting Ran or Ken to be surprised, neither man showed any reaction at all. Ran snorted.

"Good, then it'll save me the trouble of going out to find them. Ken shut-up." he added, catching sight of Ken opening his mouth to protest. Omi fidgeted nervously.

"Umm….with all due respect Ran-san, you don't know how many or their skill or when they'll be coming…." he pressed on.

"Omi, stop saying 'san'. It isn't necessary. And it's a chance we'll have to take. We won't be able to get anywhere safe in so little time." Ran replied.

"That's why you should get the hell out of here _now_. Without me. " Ken growled at him. Ran's head snapped back to glare at Ken, and the heat of the gaze made even Omi fidget. He certainly knew he'd be fearing for _his_ life he he'd found himself beneath that look. Ken closed his mouth, jaw locking in anger, and looked away. But he did not protest further.

"As I was saying, _we_ don't have much choice." he repeated. The emphasis on the word 'we' was not lost on Omi anymore that it was lost on Ken. The misery etched into the brunette's expression deepened. Omi studied them both, and pressed on carefully, keeping up a nervous façade.

"W-well I was thinking that maybe you should…come down to my room. You know, like sneak in….after they douse the lanterns. And we could wait and see who comes in here from my room. And then maybe if the odds are okay, Ran, you and I could take care of them. You know, like get the drop on them." Omi waited, not having to fake his fidgeting by much. Ran's glare was not the best of things to be pinned beneath. Ken was the first to speak.

"Absolutely not! Are you out of your mind? What the hell do you want to put _yourself_ in that kind of danger for?" he growled. Inwardly, Omi smiled. _If only you knew._ he thought.

"Unfortunately, I have to agree with Ken, Omi. While I am already involved for obvious reasons, " Ran ignored the dirty look Ken gave him "You are not. And getting involved in this could be more dangerous than you think." Omi stood straighter and threw back his shoulders, slipping into his 'determined yet innocent' body pose as he fixed the two of them with a firm glare.

"Don't you think I'm already in trouble since I came up here to warn you? I might as well go the rest of the way. I want to help. This isn't right, and I want to see it through. Ken-san, what those thugs did to you is unforgivable. If they think they can do it again, then they should think again." he replied stiffly, easing indignant and determined anger into his voice.

Ran simply shrugged, as if to say _It's your hide kid, not mine._ , and leaned back a bit from Ken. Ken glared murder at both of them for several moments before he suddenly let out a heavy sigh, his body slumping back against the wall in a position of extreme defeat.

"You're both idiots, for the record. I tried. It's your funeral." he sounded miserable. Omi's heart went out to him. Not even Ran rebuked him for the remark.

"Don't worry Ken. It's gonna be just fine." Omi reassured. Ran looked down at Ken, no longer angry, his expression unreadable yet intense. Ken seemed not to notice. Finally, Ran spoke, his voice much softer than before.

"Why don't you get out of those filthy pants and put the yuukata on while Omi and I get our things together?" the comment was a request and a threat at the same time. If Ken didn't get himself dressed, Ran would do it for him. Ken shrugged and slowly began untying his hakama, looking for all the world like he would have bolted out the door if he could have. Omi didn't blame him. The poor soul looked rather humiliated. He bent to begin gathering the medicinal items at his feet while Ran set about getting his and Ken's weaponry, clothing, and blankets together. Ken shakily undressed and then redressed, looking all the while like he might fall down at any moment. Omi noticed Ran watching him like a hawk without seeming to do so. Although Ken noticed anyway, if the hot blush that refused to leave his cheeks was any indication. He also refused to meet anyone's eyes. Omi sighed. Whatever had happened between Ran and Ken was obviously something important. It was looking to be another long night.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Poor Ken. He's going to be emotionally prickly for a long time. At least Ran won't be dumb enough to fall for it again. Although he may start loosing his patience more frequently. Heh. Ok, that's all for now folks!


	15. A Catalyst

Waaahhh! Ok, so the trip to Iwasaki was canceled, due to the train lines not running. So, here's another installment. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks again to all my wonderful reviewers! You help to keep me inspired.

And yes, if you have a request for me, I will take it and work it into the story if I can. Also, if anyone has a request for maybe another short story, or something along those lines that isn't a part of Edo, that's fine too. Right now I have another story in the works that will hopefully turn out to be a Weiss/Saiyuki parody. Body swaps anyone? KK, enjoy the show!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"**_no rolling waves –_**

_**no wind in the wheat**_

**_but a dry whisper."_**

_ Richard Stevenson_

_**Edo, Chapter 8B**_

Ken sat at the low wooden table, his back to the early-morning sunlight that was pouring in through the open shoji. It warmed him through the dark material of his gi, making him feel safe and at peace. Outside, the sounds of early-morning bird calls mixed with those of the morning cooking fires and the chatter of villagers was a welcomed white-noise. It was shaping up to be another beautiful spring day.

Ken took a deep breath in slowly, savoring the crisp smell of fresh, young blossoms and newly melted snow. And of course, the smell of an expertly prepared breakfast. Ken grinned as he looked at the fare spread before him.

The breakfast his mother had carefully set for him was laid out neatly before him; an emperor's banquet if Ken said so himself. There were at least three or four bowls, not including the customary miso and rice bowls, and Ken anticipated roast salmon beneath the lid on the small plate off to the side. He stared at all the covered bowls and dishes, watching wisps of steam escape them, and wondered eagerly which he should eat first. He decided at last on the bowl directly in front of him, and pulled off the top enthusiastically.

What he saw inside made his heart sink in fear, and his stomach sink to his knees. This was _not_ his mother's cooking.

It was a stew of some sort, but not a stew at all. Not one that Ken had ever eaten anyway. The broth was a thick and clotted crimson, and floating inside of it were chunks of flesh that were charred and raw looking. The smell was horrible. It was sweet and slightly smoky, but rotted. Like the stench of a burned animal left in the August sun for many days. He swallowed convulsively and scooted back from the table, not even wanting to know what was beneath the rest of those lids.

As he watched, the crimson liquid from the bowl began to ooze over the edge and make its syrupy-slow way onto the table top, as if it had a mind of its own. He choked, staring in horror at rest of the dishes as more crimson oozed from their lids and began to pool together onto the floor with a slight splattering sound, leaking towards him slowly. He continued to back up until he felt the wall beneath his gi as he watched it advance towards him. A searing pain lashed across his flesh as his back made contact with the wall. Ken cried out and looked down in alarm as splotches of crimson bloomed suddenly over his gi. Ken remembered from somewhere that he had been badly wounded. From far down the hallway, footsteps sounded.

"Ken, are you alright?" his mother's voice. Oh gods, she was coming down the hallway. She was coming, and Ken didn't want to see her, he couldn't, he knew he couldn't. He was terrified. This was all so very, very wrong.

He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine; to stay away, but found he couldn't speak.

"Ken? Ken!" the footsteps got closer. Ken started to panic, his breath coming in short, quick gasps.

"Ken answer me!" right outside the door. Oh Gods, no.

"KEN!" the door slid open with a bang, and Ken squeezed his eyes shut and shot forward over the table, over the crimson, unable to cry out, hands outstretched in hopes of barricading the door closed…

"GODS, DON'T TOUCH ME!"

…The first thing he became aware of was how still everything was. He remained frozen, panicked, the only sound his labored breathing, his hands outstretched and touching nothing.

"…Ken…?" the gentle, soft calling of his name from right beside him scared Ken so badly he jerked wildly, sending another wave of pain to ripple over his body. Ken ignored it. Cautiously, he opened one eye, afraid of what he would see…

…Soft lantern light. Red hair. Violet eyes. Pale skin.

Ran. Oh, Gods, it was only Ran. Without thinking, Ken leaned forward and grabbed onto the man's collar, burying his face into the front of Ran's gi. Ran smelled like musk and a slight sweat; not anything at all like charred, rotting flesh, and Ken found himself sobbing silently in relief before he could help himself.

"Oh Gods, it's only you, just Ran. Only Ran…." he crooned over and over, nuzzling the rough cotton that covered Ran's chest. "Thank the Gods…" Ken was still panting hysterically and Ran frowned as he let the man gather his bearings. He was slightly surprised when he felt the brunette start to sob, and far more surprised when his own arm came down around Ken's shoulders reassuringly. He watched his hand rub gentle circles on Ken's back idly. Wasn't he supposed to be angry at having his honor abused still?

No. Ran didn't think anyone could be angry at a man shaking and crying like this. Ken carried on for a few more moments before sniffling and seemingly drawing himself together. But he still did not stop shaking, nor did he pull himself away. Ran allowed him to remain close, and did not remove his arm from Ken's shoulders, although his hand ceased its movements.

"…Ken-san? Perhaps some tea? " Omi suggested from somewhere beside them. Ran narrowed his eyes and pulled Ken closer, giving in to the absurd subconscious urge that he should shield Ken's vulnerable and rather embarrassing state from any who might see. He succeeded in getting his sleeves to hide most of Ken from view.

"And how do we know it isn't poisoned?" he growled out. Omi smiled sincerely despite the barb and reached into his sleeve, pulling out a small pouch full of tea.

"Because I carry my own kind of tea with me always. I'm very fussy about it." he replied with a grin. Ran only narrowed his eyes further. Omi sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Fine, I'll make some and take the first sip." he said in exasperation, turning to make preparations. "He needs to drink _something_. When was the last time he had any medication?" Ran's frown turned thoughtful.

"Probably about three hours ago." the hoarse voice startled them both. Ken's hair was ruffled and stuck out at odd angles as his head came into view over Ran's arm. He looked bleary-eyed and gloomy, but at least interested in the thought of some tea. "Not that I mind…that stuff tastes horrible." he added. Ran huffed and rolled his eyes in exasperation, and Ken grinned up at him weakly. "Hey, nobody said I had to like it." he quipped. Ran only snorted.

"Hn." Omi smiled at the two of them and added more water to the pot. He pretended not to hear the soft conversation going on behind him.

"Are you alright?" Ran's deep baritone prodded. The soft sliding of cotton against silk indicated the two men pulling apart slowly.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that. Forget about it, ok? That was so damn embarrassing." Ken's reply was quick and laced with self-anger. Omi could almost hear Ran's frown.

"You should stop worrying about something so foolish. Things like this are to be expected." Ran's response had a slightly exasperated undertone to it, as if he were getting tired of having conversations like this so frequently.

"I guess so. Still-"

"Good, then stop apologizing for yourself. It's getting annoying." Ran's voice effectively halted anything else Ken had been trying to say.

"Well excuse me if I fucking wanna—" Ken's aggrivated reply was cut off mid-sentence by a soft, deep chuckle.

"Hey! Are you laughing at me now?" his voice had taken on a distinctly bristled, indignant tone, fear and self-hate forgotten. Omi had a feeling that had been Ran's goal in the first place. He'd heard their argument outside the door before he had come in, and it looked as if Ran was now the one trying to use anger to distract Ken instead of the other way around.

"Of course not." the mirth in Ran's voice was purposefully ill-disguised confirming Omi's suspicions. He smiled to himself.

"You _are_!" Ken was definitely getting angrier.

"I am _not_." Ran's voice was still full of mirth. Omi did his best to contain his own smile as he heard Ken splutter angrily and turned with two steaming tea-cups in hand before the argument could get any worse.

"Tea's ready!" Ran and Ken fell into silence, thanking Omi as he handed them each a cup of tea. The room remained silent for several more moments save a few quiet and satisfied sighs as the tea found its way down three rather parched throats.

"This tea is great Omi, thanks." Ken finally broke the silence. Omi nodded.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it. I thought you needed to drink _something_ at least." Ken nodded in return and continued sipping his tea. The silence became awkward suddenly. Despite everything happening around them, the three men seemed to be unable to find anything to discuss.

Just was Omi was clearing his throat to try a tentative conversation, a slight noise down the hall had all three of them snapping to attention. Well, Ken as much as he could snap to attention in any case. Ran looked at Omi and he nodded. The two of them put down their tea fluidly and rose as one, weapons at ready as they cautiously slid Omi's door aside and slipped out into the shadows of the hall. Ken watched them until they were gone and set his tea down as well, reaching for the hand-claws he'd palmed into his yuukata sleeves. He slipped them on and slid beneath the blankets of Omi's futon, pulling them to his chin and giving the door his back as he blew out the lantern. He gripped three shuriken between his fingers beneath the pillow and forced himself to slow and even out his breathing. From down the hall came several soft noises of a struggle coming from the room he'd shared with Ran, but Ken paid them no mind. They were not important to him.

After several moments of laying in silence, he was rewarded with the soft sound of someone sliding the door open carefully. Two someones to be exact. He could hear two different sets of muffled footsteps. They paused inside the darkness of the door for a moment, obviously searching for something.

_Me_. Ken thought grimly. He hadn't told Ran and Omi that they had probably seen Omi come in to warn Ran and Ken, and as a default would attack both rooms. Ken had conceded the battle to let them investigate without him because it meant they would be out of harm's way. He forced himself to continue breathing evenly. He did not have long to wait.

The first attack came quickly and Ken rolled onto his back, shocking his opponent as he caught the blade of the long sharp dagger between his hand claws. Using his uninjured leg, he kicked into the man's gut with all the force he could muster, and was surprised to watch him stagger backwards across the room. Taking advantage of the shock of his enemies, Ken forced his tired, battered body up and forward. Two of the shuriken slid from his fingers as easily as drops of water and landed in their exact targets: one in the eye and one in the heart. Whatever damage the blades did not do would be taken care of by the poison Ken had fused within the points himself.

Unfortunately, finishing off one opponent had given the other time to gain his wits and Ken found himself flying into the nearby wall. He cried out reflexively as the shoulder that one of the foreigners had dislocated popped back out of place. He could feel the stitches pulling angrily at the awkward stretch of skin and muscle. His enemy let loose a curse and lunged forward, intent on killing Ken before his comrades could get to the room now that there was a chance they had heard the cry. Ken managed to get his hand claws up in time to deflect a deadly blow from a katana, but he found himself hard pressed between the wall and the blade shortly after, the strength in his arms wilting away at an alarming rate. He stared in a detached fascination as the blade came closer and closer to his face. His shurkien….if only he could just…

The blade was coming closer…

And then it stopped. Ken blinked in utter surprise as the weight of the man was lifted off of him and looked searchingly into the shadows. His assailant was spun around viciously and another katana flashed sliver in the dim moon light shining through the shoji. There was the sharp _clang_ of metal against metal as his assailant tried to defend himself. And Ken finally saw the man holding the other katana.

Ran. It was Ran. The ronin's teeth were bared in a feral snarl, and his violet eyes nearly glowed in rage. Ken was surprised to note that his attacker was a much larger man than he had thought, and that was clearly the only reason that Ran had not run him through already. Despite his size, it was all he could do to keep Ran at bay. The redhead hacked at him mercilessly with a strength that amazed Ken. Ran moved gracefully in the dark, sliding in and out of the shadows like liquid; silent and flowing so that it was difficult to tell where his shape ended and the surrounding shadows began. Every strike and thrust was executed with a beautifully deadly elegance and precision, and Ken's eyes traced every movement hungrily, unable to get enough. He wondered, vaguely, if he looked anything like that when he fought. Probably not.

Just as his eyes were beginning to imagine the delicious movement of muscle beneath skin that was more than likely occurring under Ran's clothing, Ken was shocked back to reality as he heard Ran bark his name in an angry, desperate tone.

"_KEN!_"

But Ken's attention was now focused on the large shadow that had somehow escaped Ran's assault and was lumbering towards him like a boulder rolling down a mountain.

_Shit._ Ken winced, bringing his hand-claws up defensively and bracing for impact. He wasn't disappointed. He felt himself shoved violently against the wall with a loud, sickening crack, and his assailant seemed to have somehow gotten all his weight onto the dagger that was suddenly dangerously close to Ken's throat and closing in quickly. That was assuming that it didn't force his own hand-claws to do the job first. Ken cursed fluidly under his breath repeatedly, grunting and shaking with the strain of just keeping the man off of him. He could feel stitches straining and wondered absently if he'd torn any. The pain screaming through his muscles seemed to think so.

Just as suddenly as the assault had started, it stopped. The man's weight still leaned against him, but there was no longer the pressure of force on the dagger, and Ken looked up, almost afraid of what he would see.

A rage-filled violet eye set in a quarter of a pale face, hair red as the blood on the katana now protruding through his attacker's chest. The sight of Ran over the man's shoulder was both welcomed and terrifying. Ken hoped he would never be the recipient of that glare for any reason. A sudden jerk of the body in front of him had Ken's attention back on the large man who'd nearly succeeded in making Ken a bloody smear on the wall. He was grunting, blood spattering from his mouth onto Ken's face and neck as he tried to move himself, katana and all, towards Ken again. Ken was about to move forward to push him off when the faint tinge of something sharp and painful pricked the center of his chest. He looked down in surprise at the blood-smeared katana protruding from the man's chest.

Oh crap. Ken swallowed carefully and sucked in his breath, trying to put some space between himself and the sharp sword. He only succeeded in allowing the blade to move forward the slightest bit, making it so he would risk being stabbed if he dared to breath again. Well this was a problem.

"Ken. Don't move." Ran's voice was stoically calm despite the rage on his face. Ken obliged him and didn't dare to even blink.

"B-bastards….you haven't seen…the last of….Takatori…." the attacker spluttered, suddenly falling to his knees as Ran wrenched the blade from his back. Ken released a ragged breath and slumped heavily against the wall firmly at his back, and he simply stood, panting and trembling with fatigue, shoulder forgotten, arms still raised in defense, as his gaze met ghostly pale violet in the dark. For a moment, time seemed to stop as he watched the rage in those eyes soften slowly into anger and concern. The silence pressed heavily, and Ken found he could not speak or move, only stare, lost in those eyes. The spell was broken when Ran looked down in disgusted contempt at the man on the floor at their feet.

" I _knew_ Takatori was behind this. Fucking disgusting, attacking a wounded man. " Ran hissed. Ken jerked, startled. Somehow, he hadn't expected Ran to speak. The lantern was lit suddenly, throwing the room into brightness. Ran was just as suddenly standing before him, rather close, and Ken felt himself blushing again, for reasons he couldn't fathom. He allowed the red-head to lower his arms gently and grab hold of his injured shoulder, caught up again in the increasing amount of concern in those beautiful violet eyes.

"Hold still. This will hurt." he barely had time to register the meaning before Ran lunged forward and popped his shoulder back into place. Ken cried out and fell forward against Ran's chest.

"Like a bitch." he muttered into the fabric of Ran's gi, not noticing the slight blood splatters in the rough linen; the spell had been broken once again.

"Thanks the Gods you're alright. I don't know how we were so stupid about this. Gods, we should have stayed with you." Ran murmured above him. He felt arms gently encircle his shoulders. His stitches were throbbing, and Ken felt exhaustion consuming him. So many things had happened to him in he past week, and he was suddenly overwhelmed, leaving him feeling sapped and lifeless.

"Don't beat yerself up about it." he mumbled, suddenly finding himself falling asleep against Ran. He felt the warmth of Ran's arms holding just a little tighter; keeping him steady. He stood for a moment in the blessed silence, in the comforting warmth of someone who wasn't asking anything of him or accusing anything of him. Ken could hear Omi moving about the room in the background, somewhere near where the first body had fallen, but he allowed the noise to fade into the background as he simply shut himself down, relaxing against Ran completely.

"…You knew, didn't you?" Ran was talking to him, quietly. Ken struggled to make sense of the statement in his sleep-hazed mind.

"Mmm…knew..?" he managed groggily.

"You knew they were going to attack Omi's room too. Didn't you?" Ran repeated, clarifying. His voice was so quiet, Ken almost couldn't hear him.

"Hn… ' suspec'td. " Ken grunted, fast losing the battle to stay awake.

"Why didn't you say something?" still so very quiet.

"…'cuz they wouldna' come if they knew you guys were still here…" he mumbled.

"Is that the only reason?" Ran's voice reminded Ken of a lake in winter.

"…'course not." had Ken been awake, he might have chose to censor himself a bit better.

"Then why else…?"

"…'cuz then nobody gets hurt. Better you n' the kid take on two guys 'n'stead of four right? Definitely better than an ambush…" Ken's body shuddered at the last word, painful memories invading for a moment.

"And if you'd been the one hurt? Or killed?" The tone had stiffened somewhat. Make that an iced-_over_ lake…

"Leas' you n' Omi wouldn't be….'s my fault anyways, you know, that you're in trouble n' th'first place…" Ran's entire body stiffened at Ken's response, but he remained silent, much to Ken's relief. He was so tired he was sure he was going to fall asleep mid-question. What was with this interrogation _anyways_? Couldn't the man just be quiet like before, and let Ken get some friggin' rest? After a moment, Ran stiffened further, and Ken heard him murmuring something that he couldn't distinguish. Ran's deep, baritone reply rumbled soothingly in his chest against Ken's ear, but he had lost the ability to distinguish what was being said. Not that he cared any longer. He was warm, and the immediate danger had passed….for now. And suddenly all he could think about was sleep. He gave in willingly, a small smile on his face as he slumbered against Ran's chest.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooOOO

Omi was impressed. Unlike Ran, he had anticipated an attack on Ken in his own room as well as in the room that Ran and Ken had shared. He had known that in order to draw the attackers out, he and Ran would have to leave Ken alone and seemingly vulnerable. What he had not counted on, was the amount of time it had taken to dispatch with the first attackers. They had been ready and waiting for Ran and Omi to come in, and so it had been more of a battle and less of a sneak attack. Ran had fought like a man possessed, however, and their assailants had hardly stood a chance against him. A red eyebrow had raised at Omi's obvious skill in dispatching the second man, but thankfully, Ran had been cut off from making any comments by the sound of Ken's faint cry down the hall.

Omi didn't think he would forget the look on Ran's face at the sound of that cry for a long time. The man had gone paler than his usual white and there had been a raw fear behind the rage in those violet eyes. He wasn't sure just what Ken was to Ran, or visa/versa, but it was something that was fast moving beyond camaraderie. Omi had a feeling Ran and Ken didn't really know what was going on between them either, which made things slightly more amusing to him.

They had flown down the hall and Ran had slid the door open with surprising care to be as soundless as possible before closing it just as silently after them. Although the room was dark, the shapes of two figures struggling against the far wall could be seen; one clearly pinned and struggling beneath the full weight of the other. Omi had been surprised to see Ken so adamantly fending off his attacker, and even more surprised when he had nearly tripped over a body lying on the floor in his haste to reach him. Ran had gotten there first, and without hesitation, he had ripped the man away from Ken violently and proceeded to attack him with a finesse Omi didn't ever think he could accomplish. He supposed that came with having Ran's sort of temperament.

He'd had his shuriken ready just in case, but Ran seemed to be doing fine, and Omi took the second opportunity to judge the man's fighting skills for Kritiker. The battle ended in a hair-raising moment when Omi was certain that Ken was going to wind up dead anyways, but before he could have reacted, Ran had run the man through with his katana from behind; a surprising action for someone who seemed to cling to _Bushido_ so adamantly. Stabbing one's opponent in the back was not exactly the most honorable way to kill them. For a moment Omi had been worried that he was going to skewer Ken as well, but he didn't. Once the man was dead, Omi had turned on the lantern.

Ken had been panting heavily and sweating from the exertion, but Omi had left him to Ran. He tuned an ear into their conversation as he checked the first dead body, impressed with the skill that Ken had used to dispatch the man, despite such debilitating injuries. He winced in sympathy as he heard Ran relocate Ken's shoulder. Apparently such abilities had come with a price for the ninja. Omi patted down both bodies after that, finding only two small purses with money and a pipe and tobacco. He pocketed the money but left the pipe. By the time he had finished, he looked up to see Ran regarding him with a serious expression, Ken fast asleep standing up against the man's chest.

"You will tell me everything you know, and you will leave nothing out. Ken and I are in grave danger, far graver than I had previously thought, and I know that you have some of the answers that I—_we_ are looking for. I don't know who you are, and I trust you little, if at all, but I know that you are more than you have led us to believe." he spoke simply. There was no menace, nor sympathy in his tone. Omi felt his respect for the man rising quickly. His fighting skills had certainly been impressive to see.

"Unfortunately, I can't tell you everything. Not until I know if I can trust _you_. But I _can_ tell you a few things. Takatori is hunting Ken. Ken is only a minor threat to him at this point, but once he recovers, he will be more than that. As a result, Reiji wants Ken dead. Now. Since you are with him, and have been seen with him, you have also been targeted. I know something of Reiji's movements, and came here to keep a watch against him." Omi began, choosing his words carefully. Ran's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Who do you work for?"

"That is what I cannot tell you…_yet_. Simply know it is an organization that seeks to end Takatori's corrupted reign of terror. Ken is not the only victim of Reiji's greed. Not by far." Omi was careful not to mention his knowledge of Ran's own history with Takatori. "We seek only to weed out the corruption that exists within the Shogunate as it is now." Ran continued to study him.

"And how do you go about this '_weeding out_'?" he growled, his embrace tightening subconsciously around Ken. The brunette mumbled something indicernable in his half-sleep and let out a heavy sigh. Omi sighed heavily.

"It is not how you _think_ Ran. If we are seeking to end corruption, do you think we would do so with more corruption? We simply seek to stop it at its source."

"By killing?"

"Yes." Ran was silent a moment, but it was more a thoughtful silence.

"Look. We don't have time right now. We need to get both you and Ken, and now myself, to a safe place out from beneath Takatori's gaze. Then we can discuss this at length. In the mean time, do you think you can trust me enough to let me get us all away from here?" Omi finished tiredly. Ran looked at him closely. Below them, the sounds of the staff stirring began. Omi pressed on urgently at the sound.

"Ran, they've been woken. Soon they're going to come up here and find dead bodies, and then it will be too late. You don't have much choice." He didn't like to corner anyone like this, but there was no time anymore.

"Fine. Two conditions." Ran bit out, looking rather disgruntled. Omi nodded patiently.

"Number one: I never leave Ken's side. He will stay with me _no matter what_. You will take him nowhere, nor do anything to him without my consent." Omi nodded easily.

"Done."

"Number two: Ken and I reserve the right to walk away from you and your organization at any time. Vow both conditions on your sword, and you will have my trust and full support." Omi frowned.

"Number one is done easily enough, but number two is complicated. I can concede this : you and Ken can walk away at any time provided you do not ask questions or become any more deeply involved in our organization. Once you know enough, we will not be able to allow you to simply walk away. It presents great danger to us." Ran frowned, but the sounds of yelling downstairs did not give him time to think.

"Fine. Accepted. Swear it on your sword." Omi nodded, and did so. To his surprise, Ran pulled out his sword and swore upon it that He and Ken would not pry into Kritiker, nor cause trouble or betray their aid. Once they had finished, Omi leapt to life and pulled two large cloth bundles from the closet. He walked over to the shoji and slid it open, throwing them outside gently. They landed without sound. He turned and looked at Ran, who was trying to gather the medicinal sack, and hold Ken at the same time.

"Here. Let me. Just get him outside." he murmured, removing the cloth from Ran's hands. Ran nodded wordlessly and moved to the window while Omi gathered the medicinal supplies and Ken's various weaponry that had been scattered with grace and efficiency. He blew out the lantern just as he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and into Ran and Ken's room. Thank goodness he had been able to convince them to come to his room earlier. The staff wouldn't think to come here just yet. When he turned towards the window, Ran and Ken were nowhere in sight, and he smiled to himself. Carefully, he climbed over the sill and slid the shoji shut after him.

The air outside was damp and chill, and a three-quarter moon shone murky silver light from behind a veil of wispy grey clouds. The sounds of crickets and nearby frogs filled the air heavily, sounding almost ominous. At first, he could see no sign of Ran or Ken anywhere. In fact, the bundles he had thrown out were gone also.

"Here." the whisper was so quiet he almost didn't hear it, and he turned just in time to see half of Ran's face emerge from the shadows as if from thin air, illuminated eerily by the moonlight. He nodded and moved forward.

"Wait here. I'll get the horses." Ran frowned.

"Won't riding horseback be obvious?" he grunted. Omi shook his head and gestured to Ken.

"We'll get caught if we try to go on foot and drag him along. Not to mention what kind of things that sort of trip will take out of Ken. I know the back roads and forest paths. We must travel quickly." Ran nodded and pulled back again, melting into the inky blackness of the shadows like a wraith. Omi turned quickly and went off in search of the horses he'd had stowed just for this purpose.

There were three. A larger, sturdier horse to bear the weight of both Ran and Ken, his own chestnut, and a smaller pack-horse. They were already saddled and waiting, courtesy, no doubt, of Botan. Omi smiled when he noticed saddle bags already attached to the saddles loaded with food for the journey. He mounted his own horse and rode quietly through the small path that wound through the underbrush surrounding the inn back to Ran and Ken.

He dismounted as Ran emerged from the shadows wordlessly, supporting a groggy, staggering Ken, but an awake Ken none-the-less. When he saw three horses, he paused.

"I think it's better if Ken rides with me." he said simply. Omi nodded, smiling.

"I thought so too. The small one is a pack-horse. The big one is yours." Ran nodded, and Omi helped him get Ken up to the horse and onto it. Ken was surprisingly helpful and able to more than both Ran and Omi had anticipated. Once they had mounted, Omi quickly and efficiently loaded the pack-horse and mounted his own. He turned his horse to face Ran's, the pack-horse trailing behind him, reins fastened to his saddle.

In the moonlight, he could make out Ken's form leaning against Ran's chest, and he could see Ran had already draped his haori over the man to ward him from the night's chill. Ran nodded to him.

"Let's get out of here. The sooner we leave the sooner we can get out of this cold, clammy weather." he grumped. Omi saw through the grumbling to worry for Ken and smiled a small smile that Ran could not see in the dark. The sound of Ken's even breathing reached his ears as he nodded his agreement. Without another word, he turned and spurred his horse into a canter back down the path, his ears assuring him that Ran was close behind. They slid through the dim light of the night and into the dark shadows of the forest. Omi smiled, relieved that things had gone so smoothly. Manx would be pleased.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ok, end of another chapter! Yay! Schwartz and Takatori next I think. And… dun dun DUN! Get ready for the return of Kase…

Once again, I DO take requests, but I ask that you give them to me far enough ahead so that I can try to work with them.

Jan a!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	16. Like a ghost into a fog

'Kay, so lately I've been busy with….umm stuff. Anyway, here's the next chapter, and thanks to all of you who've kept with me. I really appreciate it!

Thanks for your encouragement, and suggestions, especially on research materials. Unfortunately, most of this story goes on memory and what I can find on the internet. (Of course, living here helps….) I am still taking requests for other stories, or things readers want to see happen in this story. I've had a request to write a modern-day Weiss story, within the Weiss time-line, and since I already had plans to do one anyway, that'll probably be next. Although I don't know if it'll be as epic as this one. Whew! This thing is taking forever!

Anticipate a bit of fast-forwarding later though, as things can't really happen until Ken recovers. Much fluff will be missed, but if I get enough requests I may post the whole recovery as a side-story.

I'm trying to be clever here, but it's not working out too well. Hopefully my attempt at plot twists won't leave you all bored to tears….KK, on with the show!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_**The crow has flown away:  
swaying in the evening sun,  
a leafless tree."**_

Natsume Soseki

_**Edo, Chapter 9**_

Yohji schooled his face into a scowl as he stormed into Takatori's private chambers. It was not hard to pull forth. Today Schwartz would be in on the meeting, and Yohji _hated_ dealing with Schwartz. They gave him the creeps. Fortunate enough, Takatori did not like them overmuch either, although his reasoning seemed to be that he found their lack of Japanese ancestry displeasing. Of course, this was all topped by the fact that Schwartz obviously had no love of Takatori. If he wasn't directly entangled in the mess, he would have thought it ironic. As it was, he simply found it a big headache.

He came to a halt in the entryway, and a servant scurried out shyly to greet him. An attractive young woman with a bruised face who refused to meet his eyes. When she hazarded a terrified glance in his direction, Yohji felt his patience reaching its peak. Luckily, she spoke quickly, saving him any possibly embarrassing outbursts.

"Lord Takatori will see you right away. If you'll just follow me please." she murmured. Yohji nodded and slid out of his shoes, taking long strides to match her brisk pace. She walked with her shoulders hunched, as if afraid of the threat of an unseen blow, and Yohji forced himself _not_ to look at her, lest his anger get the better of him. She ushered him into a large receiving room, in which Takatori sat at the far wall, two of his own samurai guard sitting before him facing Yohji, and Schwartz skulking in the shadows like menacing demons. He ignored them as he knelt before Takatori. Takatori dismissed the servant with an angry wave and turned his displeasure onto Yohji.

"Well?" he demanded. Yohji looked up.

"They have escaped, and currently travel with a highly-ranked Kritker agent." he replied simply. Takatori scowled angrily.

"Very well. This man is turning out to be more trouble than he is worth. Schwartz."

A shadow stepped forward into the light. He was tall, intimidatingly so, and dressed in clothing that was all-white and fitted to his form. The fabric looked heavy and elaborate to Yohji, and he could not imagine it possibly being comfortable.

"We await your pleasure my lord." The voice was as stiff as the clothes, Yohji noticed, so perhaps he had been right. He knew _he_ would certainly be uncomfortable if he dressed as such. Takatori nodded, taking hardly any notice. He didn't even look at the man. Yohji wondered how the visitor withstood such a disgusting slight.

"Find that ninja. And _eliminate_ him. It is your error that has caused his existence. I will not accept another failure from you." Yohji winced internally at the tone in Takatori's voice. Was it any wonder the Schwartz didn't like the man? At least Yohji was in his good graces. He thought he heard a faint grunt from one of the forms against the wall, but Takatori seemed not to notice, so he paid it no heed.

"It will be done, my lord." so saying, the stiff form retreated back into the shadows, and all four of them departed from the room like spirits before a torchlight. Once they had gone, Takatori's expression eased, and he turned back towards Yohji.

"Sorry for the unpleasantness, Kudo. Some things just have to be done that way." Yohji nodded, but remained kneeling.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a good, stiff drink. Have you eaten yet?" Takatori's mood was lightening rapidly.

"Actually, no sir, I've ridden overnight." Yohji responded, allowing a slight grin to twist one corner of his lips.

"Yes, I can imagine what sort of _riding_ that entailed. Let's go get a bite to eat then." The humor in Takatori's tone was dry, and Yohji allowed a full grin to come forth.

"You are too kind sir." he replied teasingly. Takatori grumbled at him.

"Oh come-off it Kudo. Let's go. Leave an old man in peace." Yohji rose, grin still in place, and they strode from the room together, Takatori's guards trailing behind.

"Yes, I suppose that wasn't very sporting of me." Yohji trailed on. Takatori snorted.

"When are you ever sporting, Kudo?" he growled. Yohji laughed.

"I like to think that's the reason you keep me around." he replied.

"Well there aren't many other reasons." Takatori's tone had gone teasing, and Yohji smiled another smile, the secret inner-joke only revealed in the depths of his shuttered green eyes.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Schuldig scowled at the rainy late-afternoon scenery. The chatter of passers-by out in the street silenced as they drew close enough to get a good look at him, and did not start up again until they perceived he was well out of earshot. This of course, did nothing to improve his mood. The thoughts that passed through their heads upon sight of him did not help either, although they were rather amusing. '_Demon_' had been the most common, and a name that Schuldig was beginning to like more and more. Perhaps soon he'd show them all what kind of 'demon' he was. They had no idea.

And he worked for the devil himself.

Schuldig turned a lazy smirk up towards Crawford's profile against the drab tavern walls. He was brooding over a small bowl of sake, looking out over the veranda, and looking particularly evil and delicious to Schuldig's mind. As if catching wind of Schuldig's predatory thoughts, he turned and scowled at the telepath.

"Stop it. I can't think when you look at me like that." he growled.

_'What's the matter? Am I bothering you? Perhaps you should try ignoring me.'_ Schuldig teased mentally. Crawford snorted but said nothing further, ending the game before it could start in earnest.

_'And besides that, it's grossing **me** out, Schuldig. If you wanna think shit like that about Crawford, don't broadcast it to the rest of us'_ came Nagi's disgruntled-sounding mental retort.

_'Just praising the man where praise is due.'_ Schuldig replied merrily.

_'Not now you two. I want some peace for a change. I need to think.'_ the tone of Crawford's final thought was one that bespoke no anger, and yet brooked no disobedience either. Schuldig lapsed into a sulky silence while Nagi retreated back into himself, relieved. Farferello continued hacking at the food on his plate obliviously, in an attempt to make some sort of hideous mosaic. Schuldig caught the purple flash of octopus tentacles creeping off the plate, and Nagi looked disgusted at Farferello's blatantly rude behavior. The youth finally settled for staring flatly at the passers-by like Crawford and Schuldig.

And Crawford turned back to thinking. Only a little longer until they were free of that great bumbling idiot Takatori, and could begin their own plans in earnest. And the spy was the key.

Crawford knew Yohji was a spy; he had known the minute he had clapped eyes upon the man, and also knew he was likely the reason the ninja had survived. Of course seeing the event occurring in one of his visions had helped clear any doubts. The problem was how to use him. Schuldig had wanted to report it immediately, and watch Takatori torture the man for sport. Crawford had adamantly refused to allow it, because without Yohji in Takatori's confidences, the chance of Takatori having his rather large throat slit were slim. And aside from that, the Japanese didn't seem to have the same flair for torture that the Europeans had perfected by now.

Instead, Crawford had devised a much more elaborate scheme. Once he had revealed it to the telepath, Schuldig had been very eager to follow along. They weren't going to reveal Yohji. And they weren't going to kill him. _Yet_.

Instead, Yohji could be used as a means of quickly and effectively bringing about Takatori's demise and Schwartz's freedom. The problem lay in hiding the man's double mask from Esstet, and convincing them that Schwartz would perished right along with Takatori when the time came. _That_ was going to take some doing. But Crawford had a feeling Kase might be able to aid. He only wished he knew how to _use_ that crumbling stone in Takatori's foundation. It had to be good for _something_.

Ah. Ah yes. The idea was simple. Very simple. Once a traitor, _always_ a traitor. And he was certain Schuldig would enjoy the show. Satisfied with his efforts, and the plans forming themselves more stably by the moment, Crawford turned to favor Schuldig with a slight sardonic smirk.

_'Schuldig…how do you feel about making some **suggestions** to a few receptive minds…?_'' he began. Schuldig's initial response rolled sensually across his mind like a low purr.

_'Do you even have to **ask** Bradley? I can taste the sweet honey already.' _he crooned. A corner of Crawford's mouth quirked up into a distinctively devilish angle, and Schuldig grinned like a madman.   
Yes…life was good, when you worked for the devil…Very good indeed….

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Against Ran's chest, Ken sneezed suddenly, and rather viciously in his sleep. Ran looked down at him with a frown, and reached one hand up to delicately lay it against the man's forehead. No fever, but that didn't mean that one wouldn't start up again. After all, the last fever that had held Ken in its crushing grasp had only ended a mere two or so days ago. And Ken still coughed frequently.

The weather certainly wasn't helping. Ran looked up at the rain with a scowl and pulled his haori more securely over Ken's slumbering form. They had ridden all night and Ran found himself hoping for their destination with the arrival of the dawn. But Omi did not slow his pace or change the direction of his gaze, and Ran could only see more trees on the path in front of them, and nothing else. He was getting tired of riding. He had long since lost feeling in his rear.

Ken had woken only briefly, from the vestiges of another nightmare. The chill, wet weather and the cantering horse beneath him had proven to be too much, however, and he had drifted back off to sleep not long after, leaning back unconsciously into Ran's warmth, and burrowing more deeply into his haori. Ran though he might have seen Ken bury his nose into the fabric and breathe deeply, but he told himself he hadn't seen a thing, and that Ken was very tired and still rather wounded.

However, the image of the slight smile that had fluttered onto the brunette's face afterwards _still_ hadn't left his thoughts. And of course, it was connected rather strongly to the memories of the many times the previous evening that he had felt Ken's firm body pressed against his own. Which in turn perpetuated a never-ending cycle in Ran's head, that he blamed solely on having nothing else to think about. Depsite having plenty to think about.

Like how he had become tangled in this now-fatal mess to begin with. Which of course, began and ended with Ken. But somehow, he couldn't make himself regret any of it, which did nothing to arrest those thoughts. _Damn it_. With a heavy sigh, Ran swallowed his pride and asked the question of the hour.

"How much longer Omi?" he had to yell to make the other man hear him. Omi slowed his horse slightly so he was beside Ran's. He looked Ken over with a frown.

"How's he doing?" he asked concernedly. Ran was fully prepared to turn Ken's sneeze into a near-fatal heart attack if it meant they could get themselves to the nearest shelter or inn.

"Hn. I don't know. He really needs to get out of this rain." he replied. "He is still sick you know. And this is Autumn, not Summer." Ran made sure to keep the agitation to a minimum in his tone. Omi's frown deepened.

"Perhaps we will have to change course then. We won't reach the safer inn until sunset." he replied. Ran balked mentally. _Sunset_? Was this guy _crazy_? It was bad enough Ran was already going nuts himself, but keeping an injured invalid out riding in the rain all _day_? What was Omi thinking? As if reading his expression, the youth chuckled.

"Relax. There's another inn nearby. It should be relatively safe. I think we've ridden far enough for now." Omi's voice sounded considering.

"How far?" Ran asked simply.

"Another twenty minutes at most. Until then, Ken will have to hold out." Ran nodded solemnly as they accelerated ahead, grateful that his torment was coming to a close. However, the truth of his own words rang in his ears, and he put his hand to Ken's forehead again. Still no fever, but a little cool. Perhaps it was indeed a very good thing they would be arriving somewhere soon. Ken needed to be tended to. He needed proper food and good water at the very least. From there, perhaps he could get a bit more out of Omi as to where they were going and what they would do once they got there. He had made a vow not to pressure the youth for information, but he felt it reasonable to ask questions that concerned Ken and himself directly. Ran was not the kind of man to play around when things got serious.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

So that's that. Moving right along….Perhaps I'll get around to your request sooner than I thought Krysana:)

Hope that was ok, and I hope Schwartz came out all right. Despite their being human, the Japanese would probably wonder about them being 'demons', both due to their foreign appearances, and also their… well….tendency to be um….villains…

Next chapter, say hello to Kase and some plotting….

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	17. Once a traitor

Ok, so here's the next chapter. Any chapter that's got Schwartz in it predominantly is going to start with a bit from _The Highway Man_ considering their culture is western.

Ahh, yeah, not sure if the poem is the right period, but it seemed perfect for the bad-guys. Sorry about the slight delay in the update. I had planned to be further ahead than this but was taken ill by a nasty cold and was out of work for three days. Yikes.

Also notes on _Gajin_ : Gaijin is actually slang, and a rude term for 'forginer'. It means pretty much 'alien', or 'outsider'. It doesn't sound that way since just about everyone uses it, but that's what it is, and I get kinda pissed when people just say it casually to me without thinking. Especially my students. The polite term is 'Gaikokujin', or 'outside- country person', as in a person from another country or culture.

Schuldig dislikes Japan, the Japanese, and Japanese culture for a couple of very good reasons. Coming from the West during a time that was full of the arrogance of considering one's culture elite and above those of other 'savages', or 'barbarians', being referred to in such an insulting, and derogatory manner is understandably aggravating for someone as arrogant as Schuldig is. Naturally, while he considers his own culture superior, he finds fault with the same attitude in the Japanese. Oh, men. Forever arguing over who's got the bigger…'_ahem_'. Anyways….( Check out Cartlin's foreign policy routine—it's _hysterical_…)

Notes on _Zen_ in the time period: Zen during this time period was just coming into its own as the form of Buddhism preferred by samurai. Of course, it fits in nicely with _Bushido_, which can be thought of almost as the way of death. A man was once quoted (I don't have the exact quote at the moment…) as saying that 'if a warrior is given the choice between life or death, he must choose death.' The idea was that one should be ready to die at any time for any number of reasons, as that was truly the noble and most honorable thing to do.

Not saying I agree, but there you have it. Apparently most of our main characters don't agree either. Funny that…

Samurai often wrote poetry, did ikebana (The art of flower arranging so that the arrangement mimics nature. The point is more than just aestheticism; the object should bring some form of nature into the home, enclosed area, ceremony, etc. I have not seen any of the Weiss boys do Ikebana once on the show, nor were there any arrangements I saw in the store. Ikebana are difficult and usually done by a master, for a LOT of money. It costs 20/hr to LEARN how to do it. Imagine how much it costs to buy the arrangements, etc. ) performed tea-ceremony, painted, etc. Anything they felt would enrich themselves and further enlightenment. Ok, that's a lot of blather for one chapter.

Shutting up now.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"…_He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,  
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;  
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,  
His pistol butts a-twinkle,  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky."_

_Alfred Noyes, The Highway Man_

Kouichirou, Kase was _not_ happy. At all. When he had worked so hard to put Takatori's previous scheme into reality, he'd been expecting a much better reward than the one he'd received. He should be lord of a small _fife_ by now; not a bloody lowly retainer for Takatori.

He stared moodily out of the open washi at the rain pounding heavily onto the now-flooded Zen-garden; it was slowly erasing the energy patterns traced carefully around the rocks within. He snorted absently. He'd never understood Zen. It was a waste of time and energy. All that meticulous work to rake those bloody patterns and one rain washed it all away.　How on earth any warrior expected to be a better man or a better person by adhering to all that mumbo-jumbo was beyond him.

Without thinking, Kase took a long, steady drag on his tobacco pipe and exhaled the wispy grey smoke out into the grey evening. It blended into the foggy air, disappearing as Kase was once again lost in his thoughts.

Once he'd awoken in this sprawling estate and demanded to see Takatori, the daimyo had 'set him in his place'. Or at least the place that Takatori felt he belonged in. He was 'generously' offered a place as a retainer in Takatori's household, or left with the choice to be turned out onto the streets without so much as a by-your-leave. Takatori had told him firmly that although he'd proven his loyalty enough to earn him the privilege of staying beneath the lord's care, he had better adhere to all rules of the household set before him. Disobedience was _not_ tolerated. There were no exceptions.

As if that shock hadn't been bad enough, Takatori's men treated him poorly; as if he were a low-life outcast instead of the noble soul he truly was. Apparently, they were rather upset that Kase had managed to infiltrate their ranks without so much as a test of his prowess.

Which was fine by Kase's standards. He was a ninja; not a damn burly body-guard. He ignored the voice that taunted him that he wasn't even a ninja anymore. He didn't want to deal with it. Even as a bloody disowned son he'd been treated better than this in his own village. He deserved better, god damn it!

A place like this; this common clothing, this was what _Hidaka_ had deserved. The man had been a lowly commoner's son, and Kase felt he'd done his father a favor by killing both he and Hidaka. His father must have been going senile, to want to disown him and make Hidaka heir in his place. Hell, Kase should have seen that coming when Hidaka upstaged Yanagi. He didn't know what the hell Hidaka had done to his father, but it had to have been _some_ sort of hypnotism. Honestly, a _commoner_. What _had_ his father been thinking? Kase forced himself to forget about it as he felt old wounds reopening. They were all dead anyways. Kase had taught them all a lesson they would never forget. He was the Tomo-sama's son, and he would be treated as such.

And that went for Takatori too, stupid bastard. Kase was already considering ways to get a better foot-hold in this still-new government. Takatori presented a very good step-up indeed.

OOOoooOOO

Schuldig found his prey leaning in one of the doorways looking out onto what he'd been told was a _'Zen Garden_'. The significance of the oddly placed rocks and raked sand was lost on him, and he knew only that it was one of those nonsensical things about the Japanese culture he was supposed to show reverence to. Which basically meant that he had to take the long way through the house instead of just cutting across the now-muddy sand.

Frowning slightly, he made his way around across the airy pavilions and corridors, his eyes never leaving his prey as he drew closer. Unlike his meeting with Esset and Takatori, Schuldig had toned down the French court fashion for this occasion. He wanted the man to be open to him, and wearing something so blatantly obnoxious was not the way to do so.

In fact, normally, Schuldig prided himself on his sophisticated means of dress, but upon coming to Japan, the ability to rile the already riled citizens further proved to be too great a temptation, and he had found himself putting together some rather grand outfits indeed.

This afternoon, however, he was dressed in a flattering forest-green coat and breeches, with a matching vest. All three vestments were embroidered heavily and liberally with a filigree of black satin. His black puritan hat was far smaller and less elaborate than the statement he usually wore, and its single forest green ostrich plume matched the rest of his outfit rather nicely. His shirt was a modest black silk, and its tails were tucked in discreetly instead of billowing behind him. The delicate and finely-crafted black lace at the hems of his sleeves were visible by just the right length beyond his full-length coat sleeves, and his cravat was starched and perfectly in order. There was not a bow to be seen anywhere on the ensemble, and Schuldig could not say he missed that. His soft and plain black stockings made no sound as he crept upon the man, allowing Schuldig the cover of silence until he wished to reveal himself. For once, the telepath found the 'no shoes inside' rule to be helpful. And he _refused_ to wear those ridiculous slippers they all dragged around.

He paused for a moment in the shadows behind his prey to study the man. Arrogant, full of self-pity, and easy to anger to irrationality. Perfect. Schuldig didn't anticipate even having to use his telepathy for this task. Sliding as easily into the man's thoughts as he might slip beneath the satin coverlet of a lover's bed, Schuldig picked the sweetest thought to build on and stepped into the watery-grey light of late afternoon with a rich, mocking chuckle.

" Good afternoon to you, fellow cannon-fodder." he murmured in a voice as rich as his laughter. Kase Kouichirou jumped in startlment, as if he'd been caught guiltily doing something he shouldn't. When he saw it was only the telepath, he scowled darkly and turned away.

"Schuldig." he grunted in absent greeting. "And who the hell're you calling 'cannon fodder?'" Schuldig removed his hat and gave Kase a low courtier's bow that would have made any woman flush in pleasure and earned the immediate attention and trust of any knight or lord. It didn't seem to be lost on the arrogant Japanese man either as Kase grudgingly gave him his full attention. Schuldig was not surprised. Arrogance was arrogance, no matter the country, and Schuldig knew how to play that game _quite_ well. He eased his face fluidly into an expression of friendly yet guarded camaraderie.

"And a fine, dreary afternoon, is it not?" he continued silkily, favoring the man with a small grin. Kase only scowled at him.

"What the hell do _you_ want, _gaijin."_ he growled low, glaring balefully at Schuldig. The telepath gracefully allowed one of the first and most frequent insults he'd heard since coming to this God-forsaken island slide off his shoulders like water. He would not lose this game.

"Nothing. Truthfully, I'm bored, and thought I had found a fellow of a similar situation in your gloomy face looking upon the garden." he countered. Kase scowl didn't change.

"Despite anything you may have heard Takatori say about my occupation here, I assure you, it is not to entertain _gaijin_, of all people." he spat. Schuldig kept a firm leash on his rising ire. Prickly little bastard, wasn't he?

" Sir, you have misunderstood me. I did not seek you out for _entertainment_…" Schuldig began. _As if you'd survive any sort of _**entertainment**_ I had in mind for you… _he thought darkly. "But rather as a companion to perhaps have a discussion with. It is odd you mention Takatori, as he is the very subject on which I wish to speak with you of." Kase snorted again.

"Yeah, right. All that flowery-talk doesn't fool me. I remember what you did in the village." he growled darkly.

"Ah, as I have said before, I apologize for that, but if you had been spotted walking away from that village under your own power, you would have been immediately under suspicion, you know? I did what was necessary to ensure your survival. Surely, you cannot fault me for that." Schuldig responded amiably, already delighting in the hesitant and suspicious shifting of the man's thoughts. The scowl on Kase's face was beginning to turn thoughtful. No matter what the man said, praise and flowery language _always_ worked, without fail. It was one of the most potent weapons Schuldig possessed, and when he wanted to, he could wield it with far more power than even Crawford. Provided, of course, he had good enough motivation to do so.

"Whatever. Make it quick. I got better things to do with my time." The ex-ninja growled once more. Schuldig held in his smirk. Yes, after the next few moments, that statement might actually ring true.

"Ahh, well, I couldn't help but notice our Lord's treatment of you." he began. _That_ got the disgruntled man's attention. Picking carefully through Kase's rapidly changing thoughts, Schuldig slid ahead. "You know, you made quite the sacrifice, taking such a large risk for his lordship. I imagined you would be repaid better than you have. I have come to inquire if Takatori plans to elevate you among his company in repayment for your fine show of loyalty to him." Schuldig was rewarded with a brief, bitter laugh that came out more as a harsh bark than anything else.

"No, _his lordship_ has seen fit that I will remain an ever-loyal retainer, forever in his service and debit. Perhaps I can crawl my way into his better graces by the time I am a grey-bearded old fool." Despite the pious sound of the statement, the sarcasm beneath it was so thick it made Schuldig want to laugh. Instead he feigned shocked, slightly-widened eyes.

"Surely you jest? After so fine a deed?" he gasped. Kase's thoughts were beginning to lean heavily in his favor, and he savored the sweet taste of yet another soul's thoughts corrupted and seeking him for comfort from imagined wrongs.

"This is no joke, Schuldig. I would not _jest_ about such a thing." Kase replied.

"That is truly an injustice. What will you do? Have you heard about the ninja fellow from your village?" Ahhh, yes, the man was playing into his hands like snow now; soft and scattered enough for Schuldig to mold it firmly into what he wanted, before crumbling it apart carelessly after he was done. That was always the most delicious part; deconstructing the damage he'd done and watching those souls fall into wild despair. It was a beautiful art; this weaving of webs of thought, and it fulfilled him like nothing else.

"What ninja?" Kase's posture stiffened in rage and alarm.

"Oh yes." Schuldig purred. "Takatori must not have told you. Poorly done of him, I _must_ say. " Like most other things the man did.

"Well, who the hell is it! What's the commotion?" Kase was on his feet now, his face close to Schuldig's. The telepath held in another laugh. God, this man was so easy to play with.

"Why, that fellow _Hidaka_ of course. Apparently, he decided life is worth living. He's just shown up at the Fujiyama Inn down South, you know? I can't believe Takatori hasn't told you. That's just shameful. How do you tolerate the man so well?" Kase spluttered with rage.

"Hidaka's ALIVE?" he yelled. Schuldig frowned, casting a mental sweep of the immediate area to be sure no one had heard that little outburst. Jesus, the man was an imbecile.

"Shh. Do you want the others to come running? I'll probably be in trouble for telling you." he admonished.

"You're right. This is disgraceful! To think that Hidaka, _Hidaka_, that stupid, lowly commoner filth is still alive! I will see my revenge for his crimes completed! He humiliated me through the hands of my own father! _Why_ wasn't I informed of this and sent out to kill him myself?" the man had taken up pacing, unaware of the lazy, jade-green cat's eyes that followed his every movement easily. Mmm, he was so easy to rile. This had turned out to be a real treat. He'd have to thank Crawford for the assignment later.

" I don't know. It sounds like an insult to _me_. But what do _I_ know? I'm just a _gaijin_, afterall. Perhaps in Japanese culture, this sort of behavior is acceptable." he purred, not bothering to disguise his sarcasm. Kase was so riled he hardly noticed.

"I assure you, it _isn't_. And I intend to correct the slight." the ex-ninja replied in a gravely tone that spoke of grinding teeth.

"Will you truly? You'll have to be careful. He's picked up a rather loyal companion on his journeys. They say he is quite the formidable swordsman. A ronin, in fact. And another young man, who seems to be an agent for some sort of opposing faction that wants Takatori dead." Kase stopped his pacing and stared at Schuldig.

"They want Takatori _dead_?" he asked slowly. Schuldig didn't even have to dig to see those wheels turning. The man was already trying to think of the many ways to press his advantage. It weighed heavily with the poor soul's desperate want to make Hidaka suffer. Schuldig took pity on him and slyly presented him with his own personal version of Crawford's brilliantly-executed plan.

"Yes. You know, I bet they've even taken this _ninja-_manunder their wing. I imagine if he managed to divulge the secrets you and I know of this fortress to them Takatori would be finished." he drawled casually, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. His deceptively frail-looking rapier clunked softly against the wood, dangling from the thick leather belt slanted low across his hips. Kase stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, frowning slightly.

"But I want him to _suffer_. He is the cause of my misery, and the reason I was forced to destroy the clan for revenge." Schuldig could have seen the thinly disguised request for advice without his gift of telepathy. He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth, and seemingly surrounding and caressing Kase at the same time. The young man shivered slightly against the feeling and resolutely ignored it.

"It's _simple_ my friend. Use him first. Then kill him. Pretend to befriend him. Show him you are relived he has been alive. Tell him you are searching for your clan's revenge. Relay the information you've 'discovered' about Takatori to him in earnest and wait for him to divulge it to the organization. Then when you have accomplished this, simply lure him away and do what you will with him. He'll follow you like a lost dog. You see? A solution to every problem. And such a neat one, too. I imagine with no one else to lead them Takatori's men will have no choice but to follow the man who killed him. They don't seem to be the type to seek revenge against someone who treats them so poorly. Just remember to treat them well and flatter them often and you'll have loyalty _instantly_. Imagine the look on our _Lord's_ face when he discovers too late that he's been had…" A brief twist of Kase's mind in his direction accompanied Schuldig's speech. Such an action was not needed, but Schuldig was already tiring of the game. Now that Kase was no longer agitated to an irrational thought-pattern he was growing boring. It was always boring when his quarry gave in easily.

Kase's face twisted into an arrogant grin.

"Brilliant!" he remarked. Mentally, Schuldig snorted. Of _course_ it was bloody brilliant. Intelligent, the man was not. Kase said nothing else, but slipped off to his rooms to prepare for the journey. With a sigh, Schuldig planted the knowledge of how to find the ninja discreetly into the man's head. What an idiot. He wouldn't have gotten very far without Schuldig's help, that was for certain.

The innocent thoughts of a chamber-maid caught his attention and he left the damage he'd done in favor of new quarry. At least there would be another warm body beneath him in his bed tonight, and another chance to defile one of those _pure_ Japanese maidens. '_Well hell'_, he thought, '_This night is looking up'._

_'Can I come? Defiling pure maidens hurts God. And I need to fuck something. Hard. I want to make God cry.'_ Schuldig's grin turned to a grimace at the sound of Farferello's thoughts.

_'Not likely. The last time you came I couldn't find a willing female soul for two weeks afterwards. Go hunt your own.'_ he growled back mentally. Farferello's only response was an offended-sounding snort and the slight feel of a resolve to do just that…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Whew! Oh man, this chapter took me forever to write. Writing Schuldig was really hard, but fun. How'd I do? Ok? Out of Character? Lemme know! Bwahahaha, Schwartz strikes again. :Staggers off coughing:


	18. Interlude Ran

Ack, ok, this is only the first part of a bit of an interlude. I didn't want Ran and Ken's relationship to be too overly-complicated and full of angst (at least, as far as initially getting them together) because it happens so often. Not having anyone else except each other, I feel they'd be more susceptible to exploring other facets of their relationship. This of course happens largely during Ken's recovery, which has been omitted due to length.

It will be posted separately (as soon as I write it) As will the smut coming in later chapters.

Unfortunatley, this came out rather halting and jerky. To be honest, my mind has been very preoccupied with other things, and this story has quite a block I'm trying to work around. Forgive me if this part of the story comes out rather limply. Any constructive criticism or praise is welcomed. Alright, here you have it…

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**

"_As they begin to rise again_

_Chrysanthemums faintly smell,_

_After the flooding rain."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Interlude Ran**_

Ran stared moodily out at the icy late afternoon light of December. It had been raining only a few minutes earlier, but the only indication of such dour weather was the dewy droplets now clinging and sparkling from the shop roofs and porch fronts. Out in the street the dark, churned mud was already freezing into elaborate sculptures of ice. It glistened like mirror shards in the dying sunlight, interrupted briefly now and again at the passing of some merchant or housewife. As he watched, a flock of giggling young children ran by, hardly dressed for the cold, and jumped through puddles and mud-holes, shattering ice and sending frigid water droplets flying as they passed. A shop keeper looked up angrily and herded them away, shaking his head and muttering as he prepared to close-down for the night.

With a weary sigh, Ran shifted his gaze to the heavens, watching the first dim stars burn through the pale turquoise of the atmosphere. The moon seemed to stare at him; a three quarter cat's eye hovering above the distant mountains, feral and deep and demanding. It was veiled in a hint of red, reflecting the dying light of the sun.

It was like looking his very own desire in the eye. Which is what he had come out here to avoid, and so he looked away quickly.

They had made it, within a week, to Omi's original place of intent. The inn was huge and old, and rather well-to do. Ran had never stayed in such a place, but found himself enjoying the excellent food, good service, and abundant amenities. Of course, the slightly different surroundings of Chiba were a welcomed change of pace. They had stayed here for at least three weeks now, and Ran had not tired of the area. It felt so good to be away from Edo.

Apparently too, the time away and resting had done Ken a world of good. He'd been up and bouncing around for half a week now, and despite threats and warnings of bodily harm delivered by both himself and Omi, Ken had been determinedly working himself back into shape. Intensely.

At first, Ran had been alarmed that it was some sort of new self-destructive kick the ninja was on. He and Omi both had found the brunette passed-out from exhaustion and subsequently unable to even get himself back into bed on more than one occasion. It took several arguments and threats of pain or worse until they all came to the grudging understanding that although Ken needed to heal, he also needed exercise and a means to ease his mind. Once he was no longer in dire need of rest and critical healing, Ken's brain had taken a liking to wandering off down darker paths of thought when the youth was forced to remain in bed. He had suffered nightmares with an increasing and almost frightening intensity, and in the end Ran could not grudge him the need to be mobile.

Although it initially seemed to be slowing his progress down, after coming up with a solid regimen for practice and rest thanks to Omi, Ken's recovery seemed to double in speed. Eventually, Ran began to spar with him, both to keep himself in shape, and to asses Ken's abilities. Of course, sparing with Ken brought on a whole new front of feelings Ran was not ready to have.

What had been a tenderness and caring for a soul in need was fast changing into something Ran had been hoping it wouldn't. At first, he had been able to handle the change in himself to a more over-protective, nurturing tendency rather well. After all, he had no one, and neither did Ken.

Ken, who despite his pain and illness, was vibrant as a summer afternoon to Ran. All he had to do was talk to Ken and suddenly the monochrome shell he'd been living in since the moment Aya-chan had died in his arms cracked delicately, allowing in a breath of fresh air and the hint of sunshine.

It wasn't even that Ken was bouncy and happy all the time; or that he was constantly naïve. He wasn't any of those things. Omi seemed to be more of that type. Ken was just _different_. Ran couldn't explain it, he didn't know why, but that was all. Ken was just _different_; different than everyone else Ran had ever met, and that made all the difference. Being with Ken was like a balm to his heart. It gave him the chance to worry about problems other than his own.

Even if those things were now fast becoming problems of his own. What was a breath of fresh air was starting to turn into a warm gale, and Ran wasn't sure he could stand up beneath the force of it much longer. Feelings of contentment were turning into something deeper; a desperate need to keep Ken by his side. He'd only been with the man for a month and already the idea of losing that breath of air was almost unbearable. Fighting the emotions only made them come harder. It didn't help that Ken seemed to need him just as much, if only in different ways. Although it had been hard to miss those often hungrier, more brooding looks the man sent his way when he thought Ran wasn't looking. Those looks sent shivers down his spine; in a good way. Which didn't help things at all.

And riding the tide of all this was lust. Ran's own deep desire to explore Ken's soul in a different way. To know the planes and curves of that body the way he knew his own; to study every scar and marking as if it were a riddle that needed his most intense concentration.

But his lust took him deeper this time than it had with any others. He wanted to unify himself with the man. He wanted to possess that body, to feel it inside and out as if they were one and the same and could never be separated.

The two of them were lost and alone in a world that had shown only cruelty, and caused them both great suffering. Ran wanted to feel Ken's scars in his own body, and share his own with the brunette. In his deeper thoughts, Ran knew that if he did that with Ken, that if they both shared themselves so willingly, theirs would be a bond that could never be broken.

A young woman walked by then, winding red string around her fingers, and she paused in front of the stoop of the inn where Ran sat. Batting her eyes at him seductively before lowering them to the ground in his presence, she parted glistening lips the color of a late-harvest pomegranate into a curved smile and made a small bow. Her kimono scooped low in the back to entice; an affair the color of royal plum in heavy winter satin. The hem and the sleeves danced gaily with blood-red chrysanthemums that matched the modest obi. Her sleeves were long, indicating her lack of marriage, and it was not difficult for Ran to deduce why. Coyly, she straightened and opened her hand, holding it out to him, the bedroom smile never quite leaving her mouth, but rather hovering there like a butterfly; delicate and cautious. Mesmerized, Ran looked down, wondering what she was offering him.

In her pale, flawless palm, was a small ball of red string. Ran stared at it, unsure as to what she was offering, and even less sure that he liked the meaning. As if reading his thoughts, she laughed easily; a sound that reminded him of water skittering over brook stones in the early-morning sunlight.

"Relax, I'm not asking you to marry me. Just take it. You look like a man who could use it more than I." the tone was teasing and the voice the lilting tone of a singer or seductress.

Instead of refusing, or finding himself insulted, Ran simply reached out to take it without even looking, feeling it's frail, soft weight in his palm like the feathers of a caught bird; a moving, living secret that would fly away if he let it go.

She turned then, without another word, and headed off in the direction she had been going, humming the Edo lullaby softly to herself. Her body swayed softly like a dancer's as she slowly faded into the pastel of twilight and flicker of shop lanterns. It only took several long seconds before she seemed to Ran to fade out completely, like a firefly extinguishing its spark. Then there was nothing in the street except shadows and the mirrors growing over the mud, reflecting the moon rising in a cornflower sky.

Ran looked down dazedly into his hand, cautiously opening his fingers to admit the sight of the object within to his gaze. The red string seemed to dance in the shadows of the flickering lantern light like a living, gleeful, thing, and Ran closed his hand quickly and looked up at the moon again. It was no longer red, but pale and silent. Ran felt the feather-weight in his palm again, and thought of Ken as he turned inside. He smiled softly, to himself.

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**

Okay, so there you have it. The woman is no one significant, and there to be an obvious metaphor. If you aren't aware, yes, the red string was supposed to be significant. In asian tradition, fate is often symbolized as a red string that binds the fated together. In anime, it shows up as fated love of course. But that isn't its only use. In Saiyuki, for example, it is used to illustrate Kougaji's Karmic binding to his step mother, and thereby show that fate and circumstances beyond his control have made him her 'puppet' so to speak.

The woman here is more a thing of desire than anything else.

Ok, hope you enjoyed at least maybe a little….

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**


	19. Interlude Ken

Ack! I posted sans-haiku! Please forgive the slight!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_Along the mountain road_

_Somehow it tugs at my heart:_

_A wild violet."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Interlude Ken**_

Ken moved through his forms like the wind winding its way through the _sugi_ over his head, exhilarating in the feel of his body moving so freely at his command once again. There was pain, but it was a mere shadow of the pain it had been, and hardly enough to make him flinch as he tossed himself about, performing elaborate rolls and falls. His weapons were mostly lined up nearby; where he could have his choice of them easily, and despite the steady, icy rain that had been falling all day, Ken had moved through each of them several times. He moved swiftly; silent and focused as he slipped into each form, and strove to keep his mind clear.

Not for discipline, for it helped to be able to fight when one's mind was occupied, but simply because Ken did not care to dwell on his current comrades and the emotions they stirred within him.

As it turned out, Omi had been a wise person to trust on Ken's part. Ken knew the youth was keeping secrets, and he even had a good idea of what kind, but this did not irk him as much as it irked Ran in that Ken knew Omi's character was not as depraved as it could have been.

His three-sectioned bo, in staff form, turned smoothly over his head and then down at an angle against an unseen foe, as his mind paused to consider Omi carefully. Yes, the youth was definitely hiding something, but he was not of the morally corrupted-sort to be harboring sinister intent for Ran and himself. The fact that he had not only allowed Ken to live, but also saved his life and provided him safe-harbor for healing attested to this fact. Convincing Ran of that fact was going to prove slightly more difficult than discovering the truth of the youth's intent itself.

_Down. Block. Upward-thrust._

That was , of course, if Ken could ever get past the new fog in his brain that seemed to settle on it whenever Ran was nearby. It was really starting to aggravate him. He'd slipped away early this morning to avoid having Ran spend the day with him just so he could have some time to think. Not that he didn't mind Ran's company, or sparring practice, but Ran had been nothing if not his shadow over the past few weeks, and Ken desperately needed some time to think things out without the red head's influencing presence nearby.

_Thrust side. Thrust front. Back step. Two-handed block._

Most of those things directly involved the red-head himself. Ken knew for certain that the man was attracted to him; he'd have to be stupid not to see the desire　and tenderness burning in those eyes when Ran thought he wasn't looking. But what perplexed Ken was Ran's failure to act upon those emotions. Once Ken had recovered more or less, he was almost positive that he hadn't given Ran any signs that the attention would be unwelcome. Indeed; it was just the opposite. Ken had done his best to keep his body language open to Ran without openly forcing the issue. He was monumentally grateful that Omi was pretending to be blissfully unawares. He had a feeling that strangers pressing the issue would shut Ran off to it completely.

_Weapons change. Bo dropped, bladed fan in hand._

He wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps Ran was hedging around the issue so much because he either hadn't ever been exposed to the idea of that sort of thing with other men, or if he was opposed to it. Just because Ken enjoyed the company of both men _and_ women didn't mean everyone else had to.

_Open. Slice. Swipe. Shut._

For himself, he knew Ran to be quite easy on the eyes and pleasing in the body. There were other, deeper emotions there too, but Ken reserved those for perhaps a different time when they could be examined at length and in safety. Most of them involved the memories of him unable to stand and care for himself and a tender look and touch in violet eyes and pale hands in soft lantern light.

_Thrust. Block. Open. Upwards slash._

As it stood, Ran had done Ken a priceless service, and Ken would willingly give his loyalty and his life to stay by the ronin's side and see his debt repaid. He didn't give a good damn what Ran said. There was a debt and it was in Ken's honor to restore it. And the thought of parting from Ran, of leaving the man alone; somehow it wounded him. Ken didn't like the thought of the ronin wandering alone and comfortless for the rest of his days. He had failed his clan; failed Kase. He'd be dammned if he failed Ran too. Hell, he didn't much like the idea of wandering around alone and comfortless himself either.

_Falter. Slice. Slash. Slice. Falter. Shut._

Ken knew that Ran wanted his company at least for now, but the why and how of that were something that he couldn't fathom. Although if Ran kept giving him any more of those oblivious, searing looks, Ken might just be pushed to do something stupid and break the fragile balance between them as it existed now.

_Open. Block. Block. Shut. Thrust. Thrust. Open._

As he paused in his exercise, he realized that it was getting dark and it had stopped raining. A rustle in the sudden quiet had him spinning, bladed fan open and ready for business.

Omi emerged from the trees and into the dim late-afternoon light of the setting sun, his fair features cast into a burning blood red. His hands were up in a gesture of peace, blue eyes turned purple and squinting against the burning light.

"Only me, Ken-kun." he called out softly into the darkness. Omi had started tacking 'kun' onto the ends of their names shortly after they had finally settled for a bit, and for the life of him, Ken couldn't figure out _why,_ since he and Ran were both Omi's elders. Although by the tone in which it was used, it sounded more like a term of friendly affection than a superior addressing an inferior. Ran, however, got irked every time he heard it, and would grumble a reply about 'not working for the damn boy…' , trailing off unhappily, arms crossed, glower firmly in place although not so severe.

Ken chuckled, snapping the fan shut with a skilled, practiced movement and tucking it into the waist of his hakama as Omi approached slowly, hands still up defensively in a gesture of surrender.

"Aa. I can see that. You can put your hands down now, I'm not gonna kill ya, ya know." Ken's teasing remark was ended with a racking cough that had Omi starting forward like a nervous rabbit.

"Ken-kun! It's freezing out here! And where's your gi and haori! Ken! You're soaked! And half naked! What is _wrong_ with you?" he admonished, nervousness of one kind turning into another easily. He hurried forward, chattering like a squirrel, and Ken chuckled again, even though he was indignant at being mothered.

"Relax, will you? I'm _fine_!" As if to mock him, another cough burst from his chest. Omi looked doubtful as he cast his gaze around, searching for the missing articles of clothing. His frown doubled in intensity when he saw them laying on the wet ground nearby. He walked over and gathered them up, expression turning exasperated as he regarded the soaked, icy fabric that was slowly freezing.

"Ken-kun…" he began slowly, his voice even with a more serious anger, "You've been practicing in that ice-cold rain all this time?" the end of the sentence rose in volume. Ken frowned. He didn't need Omi to scold him like a little boy.

"So? I said I was fine! I wasn't even cold!" he shot back, frowning angrily. Omi rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"Ken-kun, for the gods' sake, you're going to have a relapse! Ran-kun is going to be _livid_!" the youth growled fiercely, temper now serious. With short, angry movements, he jerked the outter haori from his body and stalked over, thrusting it at Ken.

"Put it on. Do. Not. Argue." He grumbled. Ken stared at the offending object gloomily, but obeyed, thoughts of an angry Ran already dominating his brain. It wasn't _his_ fault the ronin had the patience of an old miser. He thrust his hands into the sleeves but made no move to fasten it shut. He snorted when Omi did. It was too small for him, and what should have been long, elegant sleeves looked rather awkward when all that material stopped at his forearms. Omi didn't seem to notice that it probably would not have fastened shut if Ken had been wearing anything else under it.

"Maybe you were ok before, when you were working-out and had some energy, but you're going to cool down really fast, and so are the sweat and all that water on your body." he grumbled. "Let's get going, it's going to get dark soon and we'll miss dinner." Ken obliged, gathering his weapons and stowing them on his person. To his chagrin, Omi wouldn't let him carry his partially frozen gi and haori. Rather than start an argument, however, Ken simply told himself that this was Omi's particular way of being thoughtful, and let it slide. He liked Omi, and couldn't really keep temper against the youth no matter _what_ he was doing. Maybe Omi wouldn't tell Ran that he'd been practicing in the rain…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Next up, 'Let's Get Together, Yeah Yeah Yea, We'll be Havin' Lot's of Fu-un!' :)

Finally.


	20. Interlude Kase

Wow! Two updates at once! It's ok, they're short…..

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**

"_My summer robe—_

_There are still some lice_

_I have not caught."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Interlude Kase**_

Kase had made it to Chiba with little incident. Takatori really couldn't have cared less if he had said he was taking a vacation rather than checking up on 'suspicious activity'. Stupid man. Oh well. It wasn't as if he were going to last long anyway.

Kase reserved a room at an inn not 300 meters from the one Ken was staying at. He remained hidden at first; studying the man's every move with great care, learning the routines, studying the companions. It appeared that both were sharp-eyed and clever, and they rarely left Ken alone between the two of them. The agitation of it showed on Ken's face often. Poor man. Must be humiliating. The thought brought a wide leer to his face.

Currently, the object of his thoughts was moving through several forms with his hand-claws; rather, that brat Ryuuta's hand claws, a determined look on his face. As much as Kase wanted to ambush him now, attack and torture while Ken's guard was down, he waited patiently, knowing that his revenge could be savored all the more sweetly for it. Gods, the look on the man's face when he found himself at the end of Kase's own weapon…the simple imagining of it lulled Kase into sleep nearly every night, shivering in delight.

But not yet. First, he had to get Ken to trust him. He had to spark the death of Takatori, and to do that, he needed Ken to stay alive. After that; after having won the man's trust, revenge would be that much sweeter. Commoners could be so simple-minded…

Ken was interrupted, panting and sweating, by the appearance of the red-headed ronin. The two shared a moment's conversation before Ken followed the man back inside from the inn's garden. Kase scowled darkly. His plans had been further complicated by the appearance of not one but two companions, who seemed to be far more clever and level headed than the young ninja. They also seemed to be rather protective of him. Ken may not be suspecting an attack, but both of those men would. Their body posture and facial expressions revealed it. The blonde youth looked carefree, but his blue eyes remained slightly too sharp; posture too relaxed to make the façade believable. The ronin didn't bother to hide his suspicion; he glared openly, all the time. His violet gaze openly swept all around frequently, and he did not bother to bide the fact that one hand remained on the hilt of his katana at all times.

Kase had seen him practice before with Ken, and knew that this man was one that needed to be avoided at all costs. The ronin was dangerous territory that Kase had no desire to trek into for any reason. He could only hope that both of Ken's companions would be too swept up in eliminating Takatori to notice a certain missing ninja until it was too late.

But first, first he had to pull Ken into his web. And he would start tomorrow. Gods, he could already taste the blood, and he savored the sweetness of it…

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**

Dun dun DUN! Ok, quick chapter, I know, but I wanted to keep Kase up in the fore-ground a bit in the midst of all this Ran/Ken stuff. I promise you all, Kase torture and death very soon. Right now I'm taking votes…

Who do you want to see kill Kase, and how do you want them to do it? Best suggestion may be applied if I can work it into the plot! Ja na!

**OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO**


	21. More Than Just a Little Misunderstood

No notes. Only angst. Lots of it. Thanks to the reviewers! Without you, this story gets really boring….I love all the encouragement, and I apologize profusely for not specifically mentioning all your names in a thanks at the end. But I'm thinking you'd rather I post more quickly…?

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO

"_The rainy season_

_The silkworms are ailing_

_In the mulberry field."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Chapter 10**_

Ken followed Ran inside and out of the night air, panting heavily. He could practically feel the man's shoulders tense in front of him every time he coughed. Ran was angry. And it had made him very, very quiet.

Although Omi had not told the ronin about Ken's all-day practice in the rain, he _did_ tell Ran when he found Ken outside in the garden after dinner, shirtless once again and moving through several intense forms with Ryuuta's hand-claws beneath the moonlight. Apparently, neither man felt the weather was as pleasantly warm as Ken did, and Omi had told Ran 'for Ken's own good'.

When Ran had come outside to see for himself, Ken swore he could actually _feel_ the temperature drop. The man had hardly spoken to him after that; only enough to tell him to get the hell inside. _Now_. Somehow, the tone of the man's voice had pushed Ken from indignant to sheepish, and he had come inside without questioning.

Now, however, as he stood panting and sweating and regarding a frowning Omi and a silently fuming Ran, his anger came in full force, backed by the adrenaline and unreleased tension thrumming through his body. Ken crossed his arms, careful of the claws that were still strapped to his hands, and glowered at the two of them. Ran turned and stalked over to the doorway, slamming the door to their room shut in a rather unnecessary show of a temper tantrum. When the ronin turned around, Ken saw his jaw unlock itself as the man prepared for speech.

Omi, however, beat him to it.

"Ken-kun, I thought we already worked out a good routine for practicing. That didn't include practice at night. _Shirtless_. " Omi's emphasis on the word 'shirtless' was not lost on Ken, and he flinched slightly at the accusation, not having to hear the 'again' that should have ended the sentence to know it was there all the same. He shrugged as casually as he could manage and glared at the wall.

"I had the energy. And I'm way behind. I need to catch up however I can." he replied tightly. Both he and Omi jumped as a loud '_bang'_ echoed off the walls of the room like thunder.

"Dammit Ken! How're you 'catching up' by doing your best to push yourself too far? By openly risking illness again? Neither Omi nor I have the _stupidity_ to practice at night with no clothing on in the winter. What the hell is the _matter_ with you? Are you _trying_ to die?" Ran was fuming, panting as if he'd run a marathon, and his fist was planted so firmly against the wall that Ken was surprised the man hadn't made a hole in it with his outburst. Omi visibly cringed. Ken just growled, his anger reaching its own personal boiling point.

"Fuck _you_! Do you think I'm some kind of fucking _child_? That I can't take care of _myself_? That I don't know my own limits? Do you have any idea what kind of training I've been through before this? This is _nothing_! I know my own fucking limits, and I know my own body. I'm not stupid enough to get sick _again_ for fuck's sake!" he roared, stalking across the room to stand nose to nose with the ronin. Ran returned his glower with an impressive one of his own. Ken conceded the man may just have him beat in that department. His glares didn't _speak_ nearly as well as the ronin's.

"When you pull shit like this, _yes_, I think you're that stupid, and _yes_, I think you don't know how to handle yourself. What kind of idiot practices at night with no shirt on while he's coughing his lungs up?" the man growled back, pushing himself into Ken's face threateningly. Ken vibrated with rage for a moment before the tension suddenly drained out of him, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He backed away from Ran, not looking at him anymore, instead studying the floor at his feet.

Ken knew he couldn't continue the argument any further without being directly and ungratefully insulting. No matter what he felt about the issue, Omi and Ran had taken care of him; saved his _life_, and Ken owed it to them to do as they suggested without argument.

But that didn't stop him from feeling sick inside at the fact that they still thought of him like an invalid who was too weak and feeble-minded to care for himself. Maybe it was true. Maybe he _was_ becoming a weak and feeble-minded person. Maybe they could see something he couldn't. Maybe they were afraid he'd fail again. He felt so much more fragile now sometimes, like at any moment he could happen upon Kase in town; like all of his nightmares, where he did, and Kase accused him relentlessly of his sins. Maybe he _would_ fail again. Maybe he'd never be able to function properly, because he couldn't seem to put himself back together sometimes.

"I'm sorry." The quiet murmur seemed to shatter the angry tension in the room and replace it with a different kind of tension.

"Ken-ku—"

"You're right. Maybe I am that stupid. I'll try to be more careful next time. I'm going to bed now." he cut Omi's worried call off quietly, still refusing to look at either of them, suddenly embarrassed of himself beyond words. The scars on his chest and torso blurred in the soft light and Ken fought in horror to control the tears threatening to spill over. He turned away and walked to the window, sliding the shoji aside quickly and sticking his whole body out of it in an attempt to get some fresh air. To stop the tears from coming.

It wasn't working. The moon was still blurred when he looked at it, and Ken felt sick as his shoulders jerked on the first silent sob. He lowered his head and stared at the bushes beneath the window, and tried very very hard to pretend that he was alone.

Silence reigned for what seemed like an eternity. Ran felt his chest squeeze and ache painfully as his eyes followed Ken's every movement, his every nuance. Anger he could deal with. Rage, biting comments, irrational brawls, all of them he could handle without hardly turning a hair. But he didn't know how to handle this. It seemed every time they had an argument, Ken turned his anger in on himself, and Ran had no idea how to stop it. He only knew he had to, because it was hurting him too. Ken hated himself. The thought made Ran's breath come in more sharply, made his heart ache a bit more every time he saw the signs of it. And the rage he felt came from the fact that he didn't know how to stop it.

Truthfully, Ran knew he shouldn't have been so angry, shouldn't have yelled. But what Ken had been doing; when he'd seen the man beneath the moonlight, the metal of his weapons flashing silver, Ran had seen the look on that face. Ken had looked utterly determined. Determined to prove himself, to be _perfect_, and Ran knew that even if Ken _had_ been sick, he would have continued until his body refused to hold him upright any longer.

The only thought that had crossed his mind was that Ken had gone from _consciously_ trying to self-destruct, to_ sub_consciously doing it, which had terrified him all the more. The rage that had came in and swept over the fear had felt good, empowering even; but that had only lasted until he'd seen Ken's body turn in on itself, the shoulders slumping in miserable defeat. It was then that Ran realized he'd made another rash and very avoidable mistake with the ninja. When would he ever learn to get his temper under control? He hoped he could get a leash on it before it did any more damage.

He saw Omi sigh heavily out of the corner of his eye and start towards Ken firmly.

"Ken-kun. _Please_. We can't help you if we don't know what's wrong…" one pale hand found Ken's bare one and rested against it lightly, in sharp contrast to the ninja's golden skin. Blue eyes widened when he felt the slight jerking beneath his fingers.

"Oh, Ken-kun…" Omi's voice sounded heart-broken as he slide his arms around Ken's shoulders. Ken tried once or twice to get away, but the attempts were half-hearted at best, and Omi only held on tighter. Ran envied him the simple touch, although he wondered what had spurred the youth into hugging.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying so hard…" the whisper was weak, and there was a suspiciously wavering edge to it that had Ran's feet pulling him closer from his post across the room.

"Ken-kun, we know that. We just don't want you to try _too_ hard, ne? You've already come so far. It's amazing how quickly you healed. We don't want you to undo all of the work you've put into this…" Omi replied kindly. "Take it easy, ok? You should practice, but you don't have to work yourself into the ground. We're very well hidden here, and no one's going to find us, so take all the time you need." Ken's shoulders only jerked harder beneath his silent sobbing. Didn't Omi understand that he didn't want to take anymore time at all? That he was ashamed he'd even needed it in the first place? "…I'm sorry." it was all he could seem to utter, and it didn't express his emotions nearly enough.

"Ken-kun…" Omi sounded lost.

Ran heard something in the quiet murmur that brought him the rest of the way to Ken's side. Tentatively, he rested a hand on the brunette's shoulder, and nearly yanked it away when he felt movement. He frowned, trying to process the motion. Shivering? No. There was a sort of random pattern to it. It was…

Ken was crying. The man was _sobbing_. Something inside of Ran's heart froze and without thinking he gathered the brunette from Omi's arms and into his own. He pulled the man inside and onto the floor, Ken winding up half in his lap. This was serious. Ken was in pain. His wounds may have healed, but that didn't mean that he wasn't suffering still. Those wounds, after all, had only been physical. But Ran didn't know _how_ to make these kinds of wounds better.

"I'm sorry Ken." He whispered, bringing his lips down to the man's ear. "I'm sorry you're hurting. I wish I could stop it." Ken seemed to soothe at the sound of his voice, and Ran allowed his hand to trace slow patterns across the ninja's back gently. Ken's fingers fisted into the cloth of his haori, but the man said nothing. His sobs were slowing into something less powerful, and that was enough for Ran. He looked up at Omi, startled to see tears running down the youth's own face.

"Omi…it's alright. It's late. Why don't you try to get some sleep ne? We'll work this out better after we've had some rest I think." Omi nodded, fingers clenching and unclenching in his haori uncertainly. If it was one thing Ran had learned about Omi in the small time that they'd been together, it was that the youth couldn't stand the sight of suffering.

"Do you…do you need anything Ran-kun?" he asked softly, needing to do _something_. Ran smiled up at him, failing to notice the way it seemed to ease the youth. It was the first time Omi had ever seen him smile, and somehow, it made him feel as if everything just may be alright.

"Yes. How about some tea? Then get some sleep." Ran replied softly. Omi nodded and excused himself to do just that, grateful for something to occupy himself with.

A small smile found itself on his face as he closed the door behind him. Only moments ago, he'd been afraid and upset, unsure of what to do for Ken; unsure of what the man needed to heal the other wounds he'd been dealt. But the answer had come in the next instant when Ran had taken the man into his arms. He had moved out of instinct, and unlike when Ken had been stiff in Omi's arms, he had gone into Ran's without questioning. Ran's voice seemed to soothe the ninja instantly, and Omi realized that he was staring at the solution to Ken's problems at that very moment. He'd seen it in the tears that Ran hadn't realized were rolling down his face. He'd seen it in the soft whispers, the clenching of fingers. Omi knew he could leave the room and go back to his own bed with a clear mind and lighter heart. Of course, that was after he rang for tea. Ken was so very lucky, to have found someone like Ran. And Ran too, was lucky.

Omi hoped that luck was going to extend to the stickier particulars of their situation as he approached his room. He hadn't had the chance to tell Ran in all the confusion.

He hadn't had the chance to tell Ran about Kase. Because Omi had seen Kase. Not three hours ago. Right up the street. And he had a horrible, sick feeling that the reunion was not going to be a happy one. Assuming Ken even survived it.

When he finally lay down in his futon, his lighter mood had evaporated, and sleep evaded him as silkily as a snake.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ken didn't know how long he'd sat there before the aching of his chest and back told him he needed to shift his rather awkward position. Not that Ken had to pay them any heed of course.

He was disgusted with himself. He wondered if Ran was too at this point. Ken had just cried all over the man's lap like a weeping princess upset over an arranged marriage and the man hadn't had much to say about it. He'd murmured something in the beginning, but Ken hadn't understood what he'd said. He only understood that somehow, like all those times when he was delusional and suffering from his wounds or burning with fever, the mere sound of Ran's voice reached him and soothed him when nothing else would.

But Ken was coherent now. And he was afraid to even breathe. He was afraid to break the peace that had settled upon the two of them, because that meant having to face what he'd done. His back started throbbing double time in protest, much to his annoyance.

Ran solved the issue by gently shifting him so that his back was pressed more fully and comfortably against the ronin's chest. He waited, holding his breath, for the redhead to say something; anything in light of what had just happened. But Ran simply seemed to settle more comfortably against the wall. He felt him reach up and close the shoji with one hand before the same hand came down around his shoulders gently. Ken shivered at the gentle touch. He felt Ran start beneath him.

"I didn't know you were still awake. Your hair is in your face. Are you cold?" he asked softly. Ken shook his head. They sat in silence once more until Ken could no longer bear it.

"I'm sorry." it must have been the tenth time he'd said it in the past two hours, but Ken could not bring himself to care. It was the only thing he felt appropriate to say.

"So you've said. What for?" Ran's voice was gentle. There was no hint of anger or disgust in it. Only a sort of sad curiosity. The lack of accusation caught Ken off-guard, as much as the question did. What was he sorry for?

"Everything." Ken hoped that would clarify. He didn't want to have to trot his sins out in a list. He didn't think he could bear it.

"That's a lot to be sorry for." Ran's thumb traced a gentle pattern against his shoulder. Ken nodded in agreement, feeling rather stupid at having nothing else to add.

"Who're you apologizing for?" Ken frowned. Suddenly he didn't feel so dumb.

"Me. Who the hell else would I be apologizing for?" He winced at the harshness of his words, regretting his brief temper slip. Ran didn't deserve his temper for _any_ reason.

"Hn. That's odd. I don't recall you doing anything that needed to be excused." Ran's voice was still that peaceful, quiet tone; the thumb still rubbing circles on his shoulder. Ken's anger faded to confusion. What the hell was he talking about?

"What?" so articulate. Ken frowned at his inability to communicate his thoughts better. There was a heavy sigh behind him. Ken felt it against his chest and it lulled his own lungs into a more relaxed, steady breathing, making him aware of Ran's heart beating against his back. Ken allowed his bodily functions to match Ran's in pace, feeling himself relax slowly. It felt…nice.

"Ken. You're always apologizing. You've got nothing to apologize _for_. If you had offended me, do you think I would still be here with you? Omi and I _chose_ to stay with you, even when things got dangerous, and difficult. Do you think we would be risking our lives for you if you've been offending us all this time?" Ken frowned. Somehow Ran was taking his fear of inadequacy and making it seem…well…inadequate.

"No…" he began slowly.

"Then why do you keep apologizing? Ken, who on earth is making you think you need to apologize in the first place?" Ken's frown turned confused again. What an odd question.

"Me." _Duh_.

"Then maybe you're being a little hard on yourself? If Omi and I don't think you need to apologize, but _you_ think you need to apologize, what does that tell you?" Ran's voice was soft, prompting Ken for an answer.

"That I understand the depth of my sins better than the two of you." Ken answered softly, his tone laced with a bitter irony. Ran sighed heavily again, lulling Ken back into a relaxed state. Two arms wrapped around him suddenly and pulled him tight against the redhead's chest, holding him there. Ken blushed at the warmth and the closeness, unable to stop the memory of his earlier thoughts of Ran. The muscled chest at his back didn't do anything to inhibit those memories.

"Gods. Ken. Please don't _do_ this to yourself. What do I have to say to get _through_ to you?" the desperate edge in that voice shattered any inappropriate thoughts the ninja had been entertaining. Ran sounded….hurt. Ken's heart squeezed and he turned in the man's arms so he was on his knees in front of him. Ran's hold loosened to allow the movement but did not fall away.

Ken drew in a quiet breath. Ran's face looked pained, and his eyes were glinting with suspicious-looking moisture.

"Ran? What's wrong?" the ronin sighed again and gave him a small smile, shaking his head slightly.

_You are._

"Nothing…I just….Ken, I just wish you would stop being so harsh with yourself, that's all. Omi's right. You've come a long way. You should be proud of yourself; not trying to set yourself up to take a fall around every corner." It was Ken's turn to sigh heavily. He looked away to the side, frowning darkly.

" …And for the Gods' sake Ken, if you want to get angry, then _be_ angry. It's really difficult to argue with someone who deflates all the time in the face of your fury. How am I supposed to be properly pissed off at you if you keep acting like a kicked puppy?" Ken frowned and punched Ran lightly in the arm, willing to go with the sudden and abrupt change of subject, disorienting though it was. Although perhaps that was the thought of the stoic redhead…trying to _tease_ him. Strange.

"I do _not_ act like a kicked puppy, asshole." Ran grinned.

"Oh, then you have another term for it?" he asked, arching a fine red brow in Ken's direction. Ken flushed becomingly, putting some color back into his cheeks, and then gave Ran another mock punch, with a bit more conviction. Ran winced slightly.

"Yeah, I call it 'not losing my temper inappropriately'." The brunette growled back. "Not like you'd know what this is, or anything. "

Ouch. Ken 1, Ran 0. It was Ran's turn to frown, trying to ignore the fact that it had been his 'inappropriate temper' that had brought Ken to this state in the first place, as it had numerous times before. Although perhaps they could clear things up a bit now.

"I do _not_ lose my temper inappropriately." he grumped half -heartedly. Ken let loose with a loud, triumphant laugh.

"_Hah_! You even bark at _Omi_! Talk about 'kicked puppy'!" he shot back. Ran's frown turned into a scowl.

"_Hardly_. Omi can handle it. I daresay he even asks for it sometimes." he shot back. At Ken's doubtful look he pressed on "He _does_. You never see it because he's so nice to you all the time." Ken grinned arrogantly, leaning back a bit. Ran became all-too aware of a different sort of tension as he felt the friction in his lap. He grit his teeth against it. Now was _not_ a good time.

"Only 'cause I'm sick. And I'll admit he's kinda easy to play sometimes. But seriously, how can he do _anything_ to warrant your 'wrath'?" Ran smiled knowingly.

"He doesn't. Not much anyways. Sometimes, he just has to be himself. His personality is annoying enough." Ken frowned.

"You get pissed at him 'cause his personality is annoying? And you're telling me that's _not_ like kicking a puppy?" he muttered. Ran's smile widened a fraction and Ken wondered at it.

"Nope. Want to know why?" he asked in an uncharacteristically friendly manner. Ken leaned forward eagerly. Ran ignored the slight twitch in his groin, leaning forward a bit as well, although careful to keep a distance in certain areas. If Ken had noticed he gave no indication. "Because I'm allowed to get pissed off." Ken's face went flat.

"What? What kind of reason is that?" he asked incredulously, leaning back once more. Ran grit his teeth again for a moment before continuing. Maybe now they would get somewhere. He put a hand beneath Ken's chin and forced the man to look him in the eyes, now serious.

"Because it's ok to be angry at others, Ken. It's ok feel hurt. There were other people who are responsible for what happened to you; stop turning that anger inwards. It doesn't matter how stupid it seems sometimes. If you're angry, then let it out. You want to talk about _my_ temper? I think you've got me topped. And that's no easy feat. For you to be turning all of that emotion inwards is unhealthy." when Ken tried to look away, Ran held firm, and forced the ninja to continue looking him in the eyes. He pressed on before Ken could get out a denial.

"It's alright. Really. If I piss you off, then retaliate. I can take it. If Omi pisses you off, let him know. Or punch a tree, a wall, practice intensely for an hour, but in the name of the Gods, _don't_ turn that anger on yourself Ken. Even if it's irrational or misplaced, if you express it, someone will point that out to you. If you keep it to yourself, there's no one to argue back. There's nothing to relieve the stress, and that's no good at all. Because eventually that means you'll let people walk all over you while they tear you to pieces. You'll believe you deserve it, even if you don't. And I don't know if I could handle something like that…"

"Ran…" Ken's eyes had gone wide and they were looking at him in an earnest, half-hopeful, half-fearful sort of way. Ran smiled sincerely, bringing up his other hand to caress Ken's cheek gently.

"Trust me on this..." he whispered softly, their faces slowly inching closer.

In the split second before Ken's lips brushed against his, he heard the brunette whisper "I do."

It was enough. Ran knew bliss as he felt warm, soft lips descend upon his own. After the briefest of moments, Ken pulled back slightly, smiling genuinely.

"Ran…" he whispered again, softly, moving forward so their noses touched and their foreheads pressed together. "I don't know how you do it…every time…I wonder if you know what a beautiful person you are…" It was Ran's turn to choke on the sudden tears.

"No." he murmured, shaking his head vehemently. "Not beautiful Ken, not beautiful." But Ken only smiled, putting calloused fingers against Ran's lips.

"So _fucking_ beautiful…" he continued, kissing Ran's forehead, then the tip of his nose gently, before putting their cheeks together and nuzzling the crook of Ran's neck. He breathed in deeply for a moment, as if he needed Ran's scent the way he needed to breath the air. "Gods, I don't deserve you." He mumbled against the skin there, placing another light kiss. Ran shivered and opened his mouth to contradict the statement, but Ken cut him off again with another gentle kiss upon his lips. Ran felt himself slide back into bliss. Ken parted it after a moment's breath; all too soon for Ran, and rested their foreheads together once again. When the brunette spoke, Ran could feel the rushing of air upon his lips, as if they were sharing the same words.

"But I need you Ran, I need you so much. I'm scared. I'm so fucked-up. Gods I'm sorry." Ken made a choking noise and he buried his head in the crook of Ran's neck once more, breathing deeply as his arms banded around the red-head tightly in a boa-constrictor's grip. Ran swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, wrapping his own arms around Ken and returning the embrace just as fiercely. The corners of his eyes burned, but he ignored them.

"It's alright Ken. You don't have to apologize anymore. Don't be scared. I'm not going to leave you. We'll get through this, and things will be better. You'll see. I promise. _Please_, please trust me. " he murmured softly against silken brown strands. Ken made another choking noise and pulled back slowly, giving Ran a pained, sad smile.

"I do. With everything I have. Always." He leaned in then, his lips seeking Ran's own desperately, running a soft, wet tongue along Ran's bottom lip in a query for entrance. Ran yielded, pulling Ken's tongue into his mouth eagerly, allowing his response to be cut-short before it had even been uttered. And as the kiss deepened, Ran knew that he needed Ken just as badly. The closeness of their bodies was filling him with a quiet contentment, a gentle peace. And somehow, they were going to make it. Ran would make sure. Nothing was going to stand in his way; absolutely nothing. After all, Ken was counting on him…

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO

Wow, so there you have it. The start of it anyways. There will be smut, but I'm posting it as a side-story, just to be safe. That way, I don't force anyone to read sexual content if they don't want to, and maybe I can keep myself out of trouble…

SK, how was that for Ken angst? You like?

And HeatherR: Wow. I love you. Seriously. Everyone see why she got me started in the first place? Of course, her writing was also a big help. Your stories are so SUGOI! SEMPAIII:glomp: I wanna write as well as HeatherR!

I hope Ken didn't come out too girly; Ran too for that matter. I know I had some fans who liked the fact that Ken was not such a…er princess in this fic, and I'm hoping to keep it that way while handling Ken's highly emotional state. He's pretty unstable. But who can blame the guy…? Still taking votes on Kase….which will be coming up soon. The smut's gonna go up first, so keep an eye out for it if you're wanting to read it. Ok, I have errands to run and it's getting dark. Argh, to have internet at home:wails:

Jan a!

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO


	22. Danger Will Robinson, Danger!

:curses darkly: Stupid damn thing...I HATE quick edit...here's the proper link...

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_Having been erased  
The document you're seeking  
Must now be retyped"_

Anonymous

And because I don't want to have my story pulled, here's the deal :

Sorry, no new story for the main arch yet.

However, because is so damn picky, I'm posting the smut I promised you on media miner.

Since the link on this page is being retarded, I have updated my profile and put it there. Hopefully everyone can find it.

If not, my email iselvengoddess00 (and since won't display hypertext,the rest of the address is ) feel free to email me and I'll send you the damn link personally. I can't believe all this to-do over something so stupid as a sidestory...

If the link is being retarded, as they often can be, I am on mediaminer under the name 'elfgoddess00', and the story name is 'You can't do that on Television' ; the categories being Anime, Weiss Kreuz, hentai, romance, and samurai, and the rating NC17.

And THAT should tell you that if you don't like reading about explicit sexual content, especially between men, or if you're too young to be reading it, then DO NOT BOTHER checking it out.

NOT READING THE SIDE STORY WILL NOT PREVENT YOU FROM UNDERSTANDING THE REST OF THE STORY.

Whew. Ok. I'm off. Ta!


	23. Out of the frying pan and into the fire

Ok, so here's a quick update for the main arch. I'm sorry it's a bit short, but I am quite busy here these days, and hardly seem to have time for much, let alone updating a story I should be writing on my leisure and not at work.

Whisper : The 'for Ken's own good' was actually a little inside joke. Not only was that very Omi, but it was VERY Japanese. I can't tell you how many headaches are caused just by someone out for 'my own good'. Ugh. It was my sort of personal little laugh, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.

I'm glad everyone else didn't think that Ran and Ken were too feminine. Whew! Glad you enjoyed it! I really try not to overdo the angst, but sometimes to keep with the story and the characters I've warped, I have to. I'm sorry the link isn't working. Feel free to e-mail me and I'll send it to you personally. Also, if you want a direct response to your reviews, since I'm often unable to post a reply to everyone's in my stories due to time restrictions, please e-mail me directly at elvengoddess00 yahoo .com . There are spaces in the address so that I can post it without going nuts cause I've posted a hyper link. Ok, sorry for the long boring note…

One final note—_geta_ are the stilted wooden sandals the Japanese used to (and occasionally still do) wear.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_The road here—_

_No traveler comes along_

_This autumn evening."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 11**_

Yohji Kudo found himself once again racing into yet _another_ town at the speed of light, horse panting beneath him in exhaustion from _another_ night of running, as they clambered up to the front of the small, quaint little inn. Despite it's cozy appearance, the scowl Yohji directed upon the entrance bespoke black thoughts.

It was either feast or famine apparently, and just once, the double agent wished that things would maybe take up some sort of normal pace. Especially since extracting himself from Takatori's company without garnering suspicion was incredibly difficult when it had to be done last minute. Yohji hoped fervently that Manx had some very good damn news, or he was going to let her know _exactly_ what he thought about all this.

Once he had seen to his horse, Yohji pounded up the front steps darkly and slid the front door aside with gusto, still panting from the frantic pace he'd taken through the night. His hair was falling loose from its bindings and hung around his face in wisps; fine satin kimono ruffled and wrinkled and looking in desperate need of a wash. Even his _geta_ were beginning to look a little scuffed.

He removed his shoes and stepped onto the wooden floor of the front room, stalking gracefully to the front counter. The innkeeper behind it looked considerably nervous, and Yohji couldn't blame him. He'd have been afraid for _his_ life if he'd been approached in such a way.

"Quit sulking like a wet cat Balinese. We have work to do." Manx's clipped, cool voice assaulted him before he reached the front counter, and she turned without another word, expecting him to follow. Yohji was tempted to simply stand there, digging in his heels until she gave him some sort of an apology, but decided that if there really was a serious problem to be dealt with they couldn't afford that kind of time. So instead he followed, muttering under his breath.

He was quite surprised when Manx knelt outside the door of one of the inn's rooms instead of showing herself in and sitting down to wait for him. That only meant one thing. Yohji sank to his knees as well, sitting seiza politely as Manx knocked.

"Enter." the voice was deep and commanding, and tense. And Yohji suddenly found he wasn't angry at all anymore. Manx slid aside the washi and bowed elegantly before rising without a word and beckoning Yohji inside. Yohji rose and bowed to the figure cast in shadow on the other side of the single table in the room, before crossing the tatami and kneeling on the opposite side.

"Balinese, I am sorry to have called you on such short notice. I hope your journey went without trouble?" Persia began in a soft, firm voice. Yohji shook his head.

"No, lord, it was not. I am at your command." The blond replied humbly. Persia nodded in satisfaction.

"There is no need to be so formal, Balinese. I have called you here for a very important reason, and I'd prefer to address it immediately." At Yohji's nod, the man pressed on, while Manx seated herself near the table and quietly poured drinks for the two.

"Somehow, Kase has discovered Ken's existence, and his whereabouts." At Yohji's sharply indrawn breath, the emperor paused, giving him a quizzical glance.

"But Kase wasn't supposed to _know_. Takatori didn't want to risk the man being an idiot or stabbing him in the back again, so he sent two _local_ outlaws to 'take care of the problem'. No one except myself and the outlaws I gave the message to were supposed to know about it." Yohji replied sharply. Persia nodded.

"This confirms suspicions that Schwartz may be moving on their own towards a different goal. Takatori may not be an issue soon. We need now to concern ourselves with what Schwartz is planning. Manx and I have discussed it and concluded that Kase was obviously deliberately sent to seek Ken out." Yohji simply nodded at the two of them, wondering where he was fitting in to all this.

"In light of the looming chaos, Balinese, you will sever all ties and connections to the Takatori household. I do not want any Kritiker agents anywhere near the possible danger Schwartz may be brewing. I am sending you to Chiba immediately, and I expect you to make sure that Kase does not accomplish whatever task he has set out to undertake. You are to remain with Omi and the ronin and ninja until you hear further instructions. You will depart for Chiba from this inn, and you will not tell anyone your whereabouts. You know the back roads. Take them. A fresh horse and ample saddle bags have been packed for the journey. I expect correspondence on the situation regularly. You are dismissed."

And just like that, the years Yohji had spent cultivating a careful and trusting relationship with Takatori were scattered to ash. He managed to nod, and get himself up off the floor, still in a daze. All that work….all the lying and gritting of his teeth….for…_what_? Takatori's own hated bodyguards were possibly going to accomplish what Yohji had waited _years_ to do. It seemed horribly unfair. But those were orders.

Bowing mechanically, Yohji turned to leave.

"Balinese—" he paused in the doorway at the smooth sound of his name. "Your help has been invaluable. I offer you my deepest appreciation for the sacrifices you have made on Kritker's behalf. Know that the work you have done will not go to waste. Kritker is currently forming strategies of infiltration and the assassination of Lord Reiji Takatori. Our ability to make those strategies is thanks to you."

It was the warmest, most heart-felt compliment that Yohji had ever received from his lord, and he nodded, unable to speak. He left the room with his heart feeling lighter than it had in months, possibly even years. Kritiker was using the precious information he'd garnered so carefully to form a plan of attack. They were moving swiftly now, and it was his sacrifices that had made it possible. Yohji's smile had returned as he let himself into the baths.

Finally, he was going to get to do something a little more enjoyable. He would never have to smile and laugh and lie to Takatori again. Never have to endure the barbs and beaten servants. Gods, suddenly Yohji thought he could kiss Persia.

More than that, he was rather looking forward to seeing the ninja again, as well as to meeting the grumpy ronin. He hadn't liked leaving in the first place, and now that he had been assigned to the pair, he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. And Yohji had a feeling they were going to need him to liven things up a bit…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Manx and Persia watched as Yohji left the room, his posture tense and unreadable. Once his footsteps could no longer be heard, Persia turned and studied Manx with a careful yet amused eye.

"You seem to be happier." he said slowly. Manx turned to him, a soft smile flitting across her face.

"I did not like sending him into the lion's den anymore than you did Persia. Nor did I like it when he lived there in a more permanent sense. I will freely admit that I am relived to see he will no longer be at such high risk." she responded simply.

"He knew the risks when he agreed to the job Manx. And he agreed willingly." was Persia's only reply. Manx shook her head.

"I know that. The knowledge did not make it any less dangerous." she replied, turning to face him completely.

"Well, it is one less danger to worry about. At the moment, my anxiety rests on a certain head of the Kouichirou clan." Persia remarked seriously, leaning back from the table. Manx nodded.

"Your concern is not without merit." she replied, a sharp edge to her voice. The Gods knew what was going to happen to Hidaka Ken. Manx hoped the man would survive. His addition to Kritiker would be to a great advantage. The Kouichirou clan had been highly skilled; often sought out by emperors past to undertake all tasks of great importance or secrecy. To have been named heir to clan leadership in place of Kouichirou Koudai's own son meant that Ken probably possessed remarkable skill and an upstanding moral outlook. Kouichirou had never settled for less than the best.

Beyond the skill that Kritiker could gladly use, Manx new that Persia felt a responsibility to somehow uphold the Kouichirou clan; such as was left of it. The emperor had never signed a contract or swore loyalty directly to Kouichirou, but the camaraderie had been unspoken between them. They both stood for the same ideals, and Manx new that the loss of the former clan leader had hit Persia harder than he let on. Turning to lighten some of the tense and brooding atmosphere, Manx handed him the warm sake she'd poured.

"Drink this. I think you're going to need it." she said simply. Persia nodded, bringing it to his lips with a chuckle that sounded cold and foreboding.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ok, sorry this chapter is so short, but in the next chapter Ken and Kase meet, and I didn't want to combine that chapter with this one; especially because it may be long. This was just a quick update to keep us up with Yohji and Kritiker. Ok, Ja na!


	24. Just your ghost passing through

Ok, here's the next chapter. Sorry, be warned, it ends in a bit of a cliffie, but I was rather pressed for time and trying to build suspense….(Also had to set some things up…)

So gomen gomen in advance!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_How fishy they smell!_

_On a waterweed,_

_Dace entrails."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 11B**_

Ran awoke to the silence of winter and the feeling of a toned body stretching languidly against him. He smiled a bit to himself as he felt Ken settle beside him once more with a loud yawn. A cold nose pressed into his chest as he felt the ninja curl back around him. Once again, the redhead found himself awed and thankful that the brunet was so open and unafraid of the way he felt.

Turning his head slightly, Ran looked around the room they shared, studying his surroundings in the pale light filtering through the shoji. Everything appeared to be in order; his sword was still where he had gotten up in the middle of the night and laid it beside the bed. Everything seemed peaceful.

At last, his gaze came to settle on Ken. The ninja was dozing serenly beside him, not quite asleep, but not quite awake either; lashes dark against bronze cheeks. His breathing hissed in and out of his lungs in a regular, calm pattern and it took Ran a moment or two to realize that the irregular, rasping sound that signified a cough was nearly gone. He smiled in relief and reached down, smoothing a stray hair from the brunet's brow, trailing his fingertips along a strong cheekbone and down onto a stubborn jaw. Ken nuzzled at the futon beneath his face briefly, smaking his lips and making a small noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a whine. He squinched his eyes shut and tried to burrow further into the blankets to avoid the early morning light.

Ran chuckled softly, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow to get a better view. Perturbed by the sudden lack of warmth, Ken inched forward until he was once again pressed flush against Ran's body, this time pulling the covers over his head. Ran raised an eyebrow at the sound of indiscernible muttering from beneath the blankets.

"If you're awake and talking to me Ken, you're going to have to pull your head out from those blankets so I can hear you." the ronin murmured against the shell of one perfect, albeit chilly ear. He smirked as he felt a slight shudder pass through the body pressed against his own.

"mmmsaid…" Ken began sleepily, poking his head from the covers, hair wild and poking out at all angles, "iz too damn cold t' ge'up yet…'time izzit 'nyway?" Ran chuckled and leaned down, unable to resist placing a soft kiss on the ninja's forehead as he tried with little success to smooth Ken's hair back into some state of order.

"It's early." he said simply. Ken grunted and smaked his lips again, burying his nose between Ran's side and the futon. Ran jerked slightly at the feeling of the icy appendage. As Ken's even icier feet came in contact with his body, the ronin's soft smile turned into a scowl. "And you're freezing." he grumped. Ken sighed contentedly beside him.

"'At's why I said iz too cold t'ge'up…" he mumbled, body already settling and drifting back into slumber. Sighing, Ran lay his head back down, settling himself beside Ken. The brunet needed more sleep, and Ran didn't think he'd ever seen Ken this willing to do so since he'd known the ninja. Usually, Ken was up with the sun and pushing to practice. This morning, however, the brunet seemed bent on sleeping the day away. Not that Ran minded. At all. Wrapping his arms around the ninja, he settled himself in and closed his eyes, ignoring the early morning sunlight. Let it shine. They had nowhere to go. No pressing business to attend. Ran felt himself drift back off to sleep as Ken settled more comfortably in his embrace.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Omi yawned hugely, and stared at his unmade bed longingly, wondering where Ran and Ken were. Breakfast was in a half hour and Omi hadn't seen hide nor hair of the two. Usually by now they'd be up and arguing; Ken wanting to practice and Ran bellowing that Ken needed to wait until he ate and digested first. This morning, however, only peace and silence pervaded the inn.

Fearing the worst, the youth finished dressing, hastily tying his hakama. Had Kase snuck in during the night? Omi had fallen asleep faster than he'd realized. One moment he had been staring at the ceiling moodily in the darkness, and the next he was pulling the covers over his head to hide from the sun. That meant he had probably slept like the dead; something Omi rarely, if ever allowed himself to do. Apparently his body hadn't listened to his commands last night, even despite the disturbing thoughts of a reunion with Kase.

Sliding his door open and hurrying down the hall, feet shuffling along polished wood, Omi came to Ran and Ken's door and paused outside, listening. When absolute dead silence greeted his ears, he slid the door open cautiously, palming a few shuriken between his fingers. Taking a quick peek around and seeing nothing immediately out of place, Omi let himself in and shut the door softly behind him. It was in the silence of the next moment that he heard the deep, even breathing of two people sleeping. One of which sounded closer to a snore.

Wide blue eyes swept across the room to the far end, where two futons had been pushed together. Cuddled into the center was one large lump, burrowed beneath the blankets to ward off the mid-December chill. Omi squeaked, suddenly profoundly embarrassed, and put his shuriken back out of sight.

Ran and Ken were safe. They were sleeping. Together. In the same bed. Sort of. Snuggling like an old married couple. Omi wasn't sure if he should laugh or turn red. Currently both reactions were fighting for dominance at the same time, and the youth was afraid he would wind up laughing while he blushed red as a tomato. He was saved from doing either as Ran suddenly shot up, quick as lightening, katana in hand and waiting to be drawn. Omi might have been afraid for his life if it wasn't for the sleepy, altogether unaware expression on the swordsman's face. The urge to giggle was suddenly winning out.

He was saved from such a reaction again as Ken suddenly shot from the bed. Without warning or even a sound, Omi found himself pinned against the wall, Ken's hand claws bared dangerously at his throat. Ken was squinting at him with a sleepy, irritated expression, his dark hair sticking up at all angles from a severe case of bed head.

"Omi…? What the fuck…?" he grumbled, pulling the claws away. He unstrapped them and let them fall to the floor at his feet unceremoniously. Ran frowned, putting his sword down slowly, expression becoming more alert as well as far grumpier-looking.

"Ken, you're going to ruin the tatami. Omi, what the hell are you doing here?" the redhead grunted. Omi wanted to answer that. Really, he did. He didn't want to anger them any further. But his brain was slow in functioning suddenly. Because he realized, as he was staring at Ken, that the brunet was quite completely naked. And Ken seemed perfectly comfortable that way, walking back towards the futon. Ran raised an elegant eyebrow at the ninja as he walked back, the smooth appraisal in his expression obvious. Ran was naked too. Although thankfully he was still beneath the covers.

Normally, Omi would not have been so embarrassed. He'd seen naked men before. Yohji slept in the buff all the time. Even answered the door that way occasionally when he was hung-over. But seeing the two men together, naked, in bed, was almost like walking in on them actually having sex.

Which Omi also did not have a problem with, except that he didn't want to be walking in on it. So, when Ran's impatient, alert gaze settled on him, he felt his mouth open and shut like a beached fish.

"U-uhhh…S-so sorry to barge in on you guys….I j-just…" Ken smirked at him and Omi felt himself flush. He frowned, sending them an embarrassed glare. "Well usually by now you've woken the entire inn with your arguing, so when I woke up and it was dead quiet I figured something had happened. I came here straightaway only I found out that you guys…umm….were just sleeping." Somehow, despite the innocence of the word 'sleeping', Omi _did_ turn red as a cherry as it came out. Both Ran and Ken's expressions had gone from irritated to amused. Ken smiled softly, and made to get out of bed once again and approach the youth, but remembering his state of undress thought better of it.

"Sorry to shock you kiddo. Ran and I….stayed up late talking last night, so we wound up sleeping in. D'we miss breakfast?" he asked softly. Grateful for the change in topic, as well as the excuse, transparent though it was, Omi shook his head.

"No. Breakfast is in about fifteen minutes. You might want to get dressed or you'll miss it. I'll see you down there you two. And next time, warn a guy, ok?" he replied, amusement lacing itself into his tone as well. Ran's eyebrows went up.

"You want us to tell you when we plan on having an _active_ evening from now on?" the ronin asked smoothly. Omi blushed to the roots of his hair, his mouth once again falling open and shut.

"Relax kiddo. I get the picture. Go eat breakfast before you give yourself a hernia….or worse, before _we_ give you a hernia." Ken cut in, smirk widening into an arrogant grin. Omi only shook his head and let himself out, closing the door behind him.

He sighed as he wandered down the hall. He was happy that at least Ran and Ken had gotten it together enough to finally see the need they had for each other. It was a painful thing for him to see, and it made him long for his own relationship, but the sensation did not cut him deeply. By now, Omi was well used to a life alone.

However, he did not think Ran or Ken would ever adjust well to life by themselves, and began to fret over the consequences of Kase's reintroduction into Ken's life. Would the ninja abandon them for a past obligation? Would Kase destroy the delicate shell of confidence Ken had built around himself since the massacre? Or worse, would Kase accomplish any sinister tasks he had set to undertake?

Omi knew Ken was still vulnerable enough to crumble at a few well-placed accusations. But he didn't know if _Kase_ was smart enough to know that. The youth was hoping he wasn't. He would rather pick up the pieces of an angry Ken, a Ken who knew the truth, than a Ken who believed the devastating lies.

When the pair came down to breakfast, he had every intention to warn them of Kase's presence, and the man's true sins. At the very least, Ken could try and prepare himself. At the very most, Ran would be completely prepared and ready to commit murder if necessary. Omi had come to know certain portions of Ran's personality over the past month very well. The foremost being if Ran even _thought_ there was a threat to Ken's well-being the man was instantly hostile and on-guard. When Omi managed to reveal the truth about Kase, no matter how badly Ken may fall apart, Ran would stay together and assure that Kase didn't do any further damage against the ninja.

He was sitting and staring into his tea, contemplating the best way to discuss Kase with the two, when a young servant approached him hesitantly. Omi gave the youth a friendly smile to put him at his ease.

"U-umm….are you Tsukiyono Omi, sir?" the boy asked, licking dry lips nervously. When Omi nodded the youth pressed on quickly, the words coming out in a rush. "There's a tall man with blond hair an' green eyes out back. He says that a Balinese wants to talk to ya. It's real important, he says." the youth finished his statement with another nervous lick to his lips, a puzzled look coming over his features. Obviously he didn't grasp the message quite well. But Omi only nodded, smiling, and rose to follow the boy. What on earth was Yohji doing here? So suddenly and without notice? Omi felt the unease turning his stomach. He hoped desperately that he wasn't going to be getting any more bad news than the news he'd already gotten….

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

When Ran and Ken finally made it down to breakfast, Omi was nowhere in sight.

"Huh. Maybe he got sidetracked…" Ken mumbled. He sat himself down at the table the innkeeper's wife indicated gracefully and began removing the covers from the various bowls in front of him. Once the innkeeper's wife had brought them two bowls of steaming rice and another two of miso-soup, Ran and Ken began eating, murmuring the traditional thanksgiving as they picked up their chopsticks. They ate in silence for several moments before Ran began a quiet conversation.

"Ken…"

"Yeah?"

" I wanted to get some paper and ink today. Maybe look around town. Would you like to go together?" the ronin asked softly, studying his steamed spinach as he carefully maneuvered it from the dish to his mouth. Across from him, Ken paused, pulling his chopsticks back out from his mouth and swallowing an entire mass of fish without hardly working his jaw. Ran tried hard not to stare incredulously. He supposed he should have seen that one coming after the previous night's events, but watching Ken swallow a chunk of roasted salmon practically whole was still a little amazing.

The ninja swallowed once, hard, and then managed to get in a reply before shoveling his mouth full of rice.

"Sounds good. Bet they got good fish around here…" he trailed off. Ran stared openly, breakfast forgotten as he watched Ken eat his own breakfast with gusto. The food in Ken's bowls was rapidly disappearing, and Ran realized he'd _never_ seen Ken eat with such an appetite before. He also realized, with a pang, that Ken probably had eaten that way every meal before he'd lost his clan. The ronin found the over-healthy appetite endearing. Ken paused suddenly, another hunk of salmon frozen in mid air, inches from his lips.

"…What?" he asked defensively, staring at Ran. Ran shook his head, chuckling.

"Nothing. You just seem very hungry this morning, that's all." the red-head replied with a smirk. Ken shrugged and resumed stuffing his face. It was amusing to note he didn't spill a single drop of anything, and despite it all, seemed to eat with a natural grace.

"Yeah well, a guy's gotta keep up his strength…I love salmon, and besides, there's spinach here too…" the ninja explained briefly before taking a bite of said spinach. The innkeeper's wife was also watching him affectionately; obviously pleased her guest was so enamored of her cooking.

Ran himself felt something in his stomach unclench as he heard Ken mention keeping up his strength. If advancing their relationship further had been the key to helping Ken handle his demons, then Ran would have given in to his desires long ago. He was startled from his thoughts as Ken suddenly gestured to the plate sitting in front of him, salmon untouched.

"You gonna eat that, or what? It ain't getting' any deader." The brunet said briskly. Ran realized that Ken had finished and he'd hardly started. He scowled at the brunet and nodded darkly.

"Yes, I _fully_ intend to eat _all_ of my breakfast." the redhead replied forcefully. Ken shrugged.

"Yeah well, you were just sittin' there starin' into space so…" he trailed off for a moment, a spacy look coming into his own eyes. "You'd a' gone hungry if you were growin' up in my house. Everyone else would have eaten your breakfast for you." he turned back to Ran again and grinned, eyes lucid, and Ran smirked.

"I'll try to remember not to tempt you in the future." he replied in amusement, proceeding to attack his own salmon. He scowled as he saw the innkeeper's wife bring Ken another plate of fish, smiling with a mother's affection.

"Such a strong young man! What a healthy appetite! Here, there's extra…" she crooned. Ken only grinned back at Ran arrogantly and bowed his thanks to the woman before digging in.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

When Omi and Yohji strode back into the inn an hour later, Omi only picked at his cold breakfast, and Yohji wound up 'helping' him finish it. Not that the youth cared. It sounded like there was serious trouble brewing with this 'Schwartz', and Omi was concerned about what that could mean for Kritiker, and at the moment, Ken, if it was so believed that Schwartz had sent Kase after the ninja.

Yohji, on the other hand, appeared to be in an annoyingly good mood. Until both he and Omi discovered that Ran and Ken had gone out to walk around the town after breakfast. He and Yohji had armed up and then split up, desperate to find the two before Kase did. Omi had not liked the seriousness in Yohji's expression, and he felt the meager breakfast he'd managed to eat threaten to come back up as he ran through the streets frantically. His weapons jolted dangerously in his gi, along with several vials and pouches of healing medicines. He'd wanted to be prepared for anything. He was expecting the worst.

_Please Ken….just be ok…_

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ken was bored. They'd been nearly everywhere in this sleepy little town, and hadn't found anything of much interest. The locals wouldn't chatter to strangers, and Ken really didn't think any gossip would interest him since it was too far removed from his own little village. Which wasn't around anymore anyways. He pointedly ignored the little twist in his heart. He was determined to keep-up his good mood.

Waking up in Ran's arms had felt so incredibly wonderful. Fuck, everything about the previous evening had been wonderful. Even his lapse into crying. It had brought he and Ran closer together, and Ken was sure he could endure a great many embarrassments for such a cause.

A quick sideways glance revealed the ronin to be standing next to him, arms crossed, scowling in irritation as they waited in line at the tako-yaki stand. As they moved forward, Ken shifted his weight, feet beginning to ache from the combination of walking all day and standing still for several minutes. As he did so, the feeling of Ran's bamboo ink vial bumped against the bare skin of his chest, weged behind one of his bladed fans that had been strapped into the inside flap of his gi. The bamboo was smooth, its polished surface warm with the heat of his own body, and Ken found it somehow endearing to have something of Ran's so close to his heart. He'd only learned today how important the ronin felt the written word was, although Ken himself had never put much stock in it. Things written in ink meant one more finger pointing back to you after a crime committed. But Ran had wanted it, and with the paper taking up such a vast amount of space in his gi, Ken had simply taken the ink and put it into his own, along with a small set of vials containing various types of dye; meant for paper, but able to serve Ken's purposes well enough until he could procure better tools. He fully intended to teach Ran a few tricks of his trade in case they ever got into trouble or separated.

The thought of separation from Ran made his heart squeeze, and he looked away from the redhead for a moment to clear his head. He had been successful, and was turning back to see their progress in line when he caught sight of someone he had hoped _never_ to see again; dead or alive. He wanted to keep those ghosts locked in the closet of the deepest recesses of his mind.

But he couldn't. Not with _him_ standing right there, leering, waving, and motioning him over as if they were old childhood friends running into each other at market. Ken felt his entire body shut down, frozen, while his stomach stretched itself; trying to get to his feet and out of his mouth at the same time. His breath slowed, ragged, and his vision seemed to dim and blur around the edges, the one man in the middle so lucid it hurt. Ken couldn't say his name.

He felt his hand take Ran's upper-arm in a vice-grip, squeezing painfully.

Still, he couldn't say that name, the one name. He was dreaming; this was a nightmare, and he had to wake up, he had to wake up _now_.

Ran's scowl deepened as Ken took a painful grip on his arm, but as he turned to glare at the ninja and tell him to be patient for the _hundredth_ time that afternoon, he felt the words leave him, along with his breath, at the sight of Ken's face. Instantly, his hand was on his sword-hilt, thumb pushing the deadly steel an inch from the sheath, readying it to be pulled out completely at a moment's notice. He had seen that look on Ken's face before, and whoever had put it there was going to die slowly when Ran caught hold of them.

He had seen that look. It was an expression he had hoped never to see again; worn only when Ken was captive in the worst of his nightmares. Sharp violet eyes scanned the crowd as he yanked Ken out from the tako-yaki line and into the relative safely of a building shadow. Ken's wide, terrified eyes never moved. He followed their gaze to a dark-haired man. A man who was leering at them and motioning Ken over as if they were close companions. Ran grit his teeth and pulled Ken behind him.

"Who is it?" he growled angrily. Ken didn't respond. Ran snapped his head around to face the ninja. "I _said_ ", he began again, but stopped when he saw Ken's jaw working slowly. The brunet mumbled something, eyes still wide with shock, still looking at the stranger, and Ran couldn't make out what the brunet said.

"Ken, _look_ at me. I can't understand you." the fear was pushing anger to the surface, and he grabbed hold of it desperately. Ken made one or two more attempts, wide-eyes on Ran's face now, although vacant; as if he wasn't really seeing the ronin at all. The redhead leaned closer, and felt his blood chill and his anger die when he finally understood.

"_Kase."_

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Bwahahahaha! couchcough Uhhh…yeah, sorry about the cliffie but I didn't have time to get anything else done. Too much work to do today. I'll try and post the rest on Friday! Ja na!


	25. Convoluted Crimson

Wahhh! Cliffhanger not ended, sorry, but I really am very busy. Once again, thanks to all those who reviewed! They really help to inspire me to write better so I can entertain better. I hope you like this chapter. It was incredibly difficult to write!

_Kunai_ – A common ninja weapon; a spike, which looks similar to a flattened railroad spike of about fifteen centimeters in length. Used for everything from climbing to throwing (like a shuriken).

And from the last chapter, (Gomen) _Tako-yaki_ – Sort of like grilled octopus. (Ewww…) The Japanese seem to love it.

Other notes: In most inns and Izakayas, there is usually an area with private rooms for private parties. NOT in most Japanese architecture of this period : More than one story in a building. With the exception of the aristocracy, no one could afford it. But while we're being technical, no one can carry that many weapons around with them and _not_ have people notice. But for the story's sake I sort of fudged it. Hope no one minds really.

Ok, onward!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

_A wintry gust—_

_His cheeks painfully swollen,_

_Face of a man."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 12**_

_"Kase."_

Ran felt his world spin slightly at the name, and he returned his gaze to the arrogant young man that was coming towards them at a quick pace. Reflexively, Ran's body went into a rigid battle stance, and he angled himself slightly, one hand holding his katana sheath, the other hovering above his sword hilt at ready.

Truthfully, although Ran had never met Kase, he had come to hate him. That bloody name had been uttered so many times during Ken's nightmares; so many times had Ken begged forgiveness of the ever-illusive Kase, that Ran despised the man. Even if this reality-based Kase had nothing to do with those dreams, the man's name had been at the root of all Ken's suffering; the ninja's inability to save Kase when he'd been dying himself had taken a harsh toll on the brunet. And Ran would be damned if this intruder did any further damage than what had already been done.

Behind him, he could feel Ken shaking, but the ninja had at least released his arm and appeared to be pulling himself together. Kase approached them, and ignoring Ran, breezed past the ronin as if he weren't even in existence, instead running forward to entrap Ken in a bear-hug. Ken grunted, and Ran was secretly pleased to note, when shocked violet eyes turned to follow Kase's path, that Ken did not return the embrace. Kase pulled back, hands firmly on Ken's shoulders, teary look firmly in his eyes, and sighed deeply, as if he had just found a long, lost lover.

"Hidaka! Gods, it _is_ you! Truly! You're alive!" he yelled joyously, attracting the attention of several passers-by. Ran glared them into moving on, one hand still defensively on his sword, and turned back towards the pair, waiting to see what Ken would do.

The ninja extracted himself from what appeared to be a rather vice-like grip and smiled weakly.

"K-Kase….I thought…you were….they _took_ you….they just took you _away _and…" he mumbled incoherently. Kase smiled sadly and placed another strong grip on one of Ken's shoulders. Ran was beginning to get aggravated with the constant touching. A very dark, primal part of him was screaming '_mine!'_ . The scream got louder when Kase pulled Ken into another rough, unwanted embrace.

"Hidaka, I'm sorry. Gods I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how you must have suffered." Kase murmured, stroking Ken's hair as if he were some kind of pet. Ran wanted to say,

'_You have no **idea**, you bastard, and where the hell have you been all this time? All this time he was suffering and healing and calling out your name, where the hell were you?.'_

But he remained silent, drawing closer to Ken in silent support. The redhead felt a part of him unclench and relax as the ninja not only stepped out of Kase's embrace, but pushed himself up against Ran's side almost like a frightened child. The urge to smile smugly at the man scowling in front of him was almost overwhelming. Ran kept one hand on his sword hilt and brought the other up to Ken's shoulder, squeezing it in what he hopped was a reassuring manner. He was rewarded with Ken's almost visible loosening of muscle. Ran still hated Kase, but much of his worry eased with the small gesture.

"Hidaka…I-I thought everyone was gone…._everyone_, I…I'm so sorry…I would have _come_ for you, had I only known…" Kase's message seemed sincere, but there was something else in the play of those words, something about the way the dark-haired man formed his mouth around them, that the ronin didn't like. Ken spoke quietly from beside him and Ran felt the words vibrate through his body.

"I thought you were dead, Kase…they…they carried you off and I thought they were going to torture you….I thought they were going to murder you horribly…I…Gods, I'm so sorry Kase…I tried so hard…I tried to stop them, tried to get you…I couldn't even….even Ryuuta; even Ryuuta…I couldn't save _anyone_…" Ken's voice was low and broke over the second utterance of Ryuuta's name. Ran's hand was itching to unsheathe his sword and run it through Kase's miserable gut. Instead, his arm came around Ken's shoulders in an uncharacteristic public display of a comrade's affection.

"Ken…it's alright…" he murmured in a low voice near the brunet's ear. Ken's hair shadowed his face, but he could tell the ninja was near tears. Ken didn't seem to respond to him, every part of the brunet's body tense and waiting for a rebuke from the stranger in front of them. Ran glared at the man. Kase ignored him.

"I'm sure you did Hidaka. I'm sure you did. Let's get off the street and somewhere more comfortable, shall we? I'm sure we have a lot of catching-up to do." the man pulled Ken from the comfort of Ran's side, slinging an arm around his shoulders companionably and steering the lost brunet over towards a crowded izakaya. He shot Ran a disdainful look over his shoulder, and for just a moment, Ran felt a deep pain knife through his heart. Looking at the two, Kase's arm around Ken, walking off without him so casually, Ran felt the horrible fear that Ken would abandon him stir to life and take hold of his body, keeping him motionless while the two just walked away. Not even Kase's condescending, lordly smirk was enough to jar him to follow.

Until Ken suddenly whipped his head around, aware that Ran was not moving to follow. Wide, desperate brown eyes turned towards him, and the gaze was as strong as if Ken had turned and held his arms out towards the ronin. It said '_Ran, Gods, please don't leave me alone, not with this man…_', and Ran moved so fast he was beside the ninja within moments. But Ken didn't relax at all.

They entered the crowded, over-heated izakaya, and Ran scowled at the number of people present. Kase didn't want to be in public and yet he went to a place like this? They pushed their way through the crowd, and he felt himself getting shoved and elbowed this way and that, so rudely that he started shoving back. He was engaged in a near-brawl with some idiot who'd had the audacity to practically bodily shove him into a corner when he realized with a start that he had fallen behind the other two. Letting himself get slammed against the wall, Ran ignored his assailant and shot his gaze frantically around the room. No Ken. No Kase. Panicked, he shoved his sword hilt into the man's over-large gut and then jumped onto a table, ignoring the incredulous and angry stares he received.

Nothing, no one. Not a familiar sight. Gods, the two were _ninjas_. Who knew what sort of talents Kase had as a Tomo's son? They could be long gone by now. And he'd never find them. Ran vaulted the table and into the crowd, landing and taking off in the direction they'd been headed. What if he couldn't find them? What if Ken left with Kase, his loyalty to the clan winning out over his loyalty to Ran?

No, no, that wouldn't happen. Ran needed to calm himself. It would do him no good to get worked-up over things now. He knew, at the very least, that Ken would not leave without his belongings, and he ignored the sharp pang that squeezed his heart at prospect that losing Ken was very possible suddenly.

Ran had elbowed his way through the crowd to find himself staring at a dark, empty hallway, and a set of old, rickety looking stairs. He had made it to the wing with the private rooms. Straining, Ran could hear no soft conversation over the noise of the crowded Izakaya. He was making ready to systematically open the doors and check every room, regardless of who might have been in them, when a strong hand slammed down onto his shoulder and whirled him around violently. Ran's sword was halfway out of its sheath before he realized he recognized those lazy green eyes from _somewhere_…

"Where. Is. Ken.?" It was a simple question with a dozen meanings implied in its tone, and the memory of the man clicked into place at once.

"What's it to you, Kudo-_san_?" the ronin growled, getting more and more aggravated with the sudden manifestation of people after Ken. The tall brunet grabbed him by the collar and dragged him upwards, bringing their faces centimeters apart.

"I don't have time for mind-games, _Fujimiya_, where _is_ he? His life depends on it!" Ran's scathing retort died in his throat at the last sentence, and his pale complexion became noticeably paler.

"What do you mean 'his life depends on it'?" Ran hissed, pleased he at least still sounded enraged. Inside he felt a frigid, inescapable cold. Yohji released him, sighing and raking a hand through disheveled brown locks. Ran realized, disturbed, that the man looked highly unkempt; as if he'd been frantically searching for a long time.

"Where is he?" the brunet said simply. The ronin sighed in defeat.

"I don't know. We ran into _Kase_ a little while ago, and came here. I lost them in the crowd." the ronin replied miserably, spitting the second ninja's name out as if it were a bad taste in his mouth. If he was expecting shock or confusion at the mention of Kase, he received neither. Instead, Yohji turned a disturbing shade of grey.

"You…what…?" he asked slowly. Ran scowled at him, stomach turning uneasily.

"I don't make it a habit to repeat myself." he growled angrily. Yohji cursed. Long, and loud and fluidly. Suddenly he looked up, grabbing Ran by the shoulders and looking into the man's eyes somberly.

"Listen to me, Fujimiya. _Kase_ had Ken's entire clan _massacred_. He_ set the whole thing up_ with Takatori. He _hates_ Ken because just before his father, the Tomo, died, he named Ken as his heir, disowning Kase. We have _got_ to find Ken, _now_." Ran just stared blankly with wide eyes, feeling suddenly dead inside. Never mind _how_ Yohji had known about Kase, or _why_. Ran cold only focus on the fact that he'd left Ken in a very, very dangerous situation, vulnerable and alone.

He'd just let Ken go; let him slip away, like sand, to his own death. At the hands of someone he had likely trusted. Perhaps still did. And all he had done was doubt Ken's loyalty while Ken was forced to face his own demons, in the flesh.

Ken's frightened, desperate eyes flashed into Ran's mind and he ruthlessly pushed down the terror, all consuming, and forced himself to focus. _Find Ken. Find Ken._, and the mantra began its own loop through his head. He nodded at Yohji finally, blinking his gaze into lucidity.

"They were headed this way. I was about to start checking the rooms." he said curtly. Yohji nodded.

"Good. I'll take down here and you take upstairs. The more private the better probably." he said evenly. He turned down the hall without waiting for a response. Ran didn't give him one, hand once again on his sheathed sword, one hand hovering above the hilt as he crept soundlessly up the stairs.

_Ken. Hold on. I'm coming. I won't let you down this time._

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ken tried, very hard, to filter through the shock in his system. The first wake-up call came when he somehow unconsciously realized he could no longer feel Ran's presence near him. He snapped-to with a start, digging his heels into the old wooden floor beneath him.

"Wait, where's Ran?" he said, a note of panic in his voice. "I don't see him." Kase tugged him forward impatiently, and Ken nearly stumbled.

"He's there, see? He's coming, come-on, let's get out of this crowd; we have a lot to talk about." Kase gestured impatiently and Ken saw Ran following behind a short distance, shoving at the crowd grumpily. A small smile fluttered to his lips at the scowl on the redhead's face, but died as Kase began pulling him back towards the hallway again. Everything was happening so fast that Ken didn't have time to understand the light in the ex-ninja's eyes, only that he was being dragged farther from safety and into one of his worst nightmares.

The brunet supposed, perhaps, he deserved it, as he saw Ran fade out of sight. They mounted a set of stairs, and Ken turned to pay attention to his feet, lest he fall. He steeled his muscles, understanding suddenly that Kase had wanted to get him alone to begin with, and the ninja felt a tiny sense of hope that the man had wanted to spare him the pain of being humiliated in front of Ran. Kase hadn't forgiven him. The man was moving briskly, practically dragging him along, no hint of affection in the iron grip on his wrist.

_I'm sorry, Ran. I don't want you to see this. I'll come back to you, I promise._

The silent vow gave Ken enough strength to stand straighter and pull his wrist from the grip Kase had taken it into. The man turned briefly, but only to be sure Ken was still following. They sped down a darkened corridor, and there were several twists and turns during which Ken felt his inner-most instincts come on high alert. Instincts which had been drilled into him for so long they were a part of his very nature.

_Confusing the prey._ A voice whispered in his mind, and Ken heeded it in his need to be comforted, not really understanding what it meant. They came to a dark room, and Kase opened the door, briskly motioning him inside before slamming it shut after them with such finality Ken nearly jumped.

_Alone. Dark. There isn't anyone here but us._ The voice whispered again, and Ken felt his uneasiness start to shift into a wariness of the man beside him. When Kase motioned him into the room, Ken hesitated, shifting his feet in the doorway.

"I'd rather stand here." he said plainly. Kase scowled at him.

"Hidaka, I dragged us here so that we could talk somewhere secluded. Standing near the door isn't secluded." here Kase's expression changed into one of unease, and he hunched his shoulders. "There are enemies everywhere. I wanted to be sure no one would overhear us." Ken frowned, the explanation logical but feeling like a lie as he heard it. None-the-less, he stepped up onto the tatami and knelt across from Kase, looking at the floor humbly. Kase did not tell him to look up, and Ken's heart sank further. Mentally he prepared himself for the accusations that were certain to come.

" Where have you _been_?" the dark-haired man demanded angrily. "I could have used your _help_ all this time, you know." Ken flinched and ducked his head lower. Kase did not disappoint.

"I'm sorry. There's no excuse and I'm sorry." he said miserably. Silence hung heavily in the room as Kase stared at the broken man in front of him. Forcing Ken into this position felt unexpectedly gratifying. It was about damn time _someone_ gave him respect. He sighed heavily, enjoying the jerk in the young man's shoulders as he did so.

"Are you at least going to tell me where you've _been_?" he demanded in a voice he'd often heard his father use when he was extremely displeased with his men. Ken's body curled in on itself, hands clenched, white-knuckled, in his lap. He was suddenly, intensely grateful Ran wasn't present.

"After…after the at-tack I was wounded. I nearly died of fever. I…It took a long time for me to recover…otherwise, I _swear_ I would have come after you sooner!" and here Ken's head shot-up, eyes earnest and pleading Kase to understand. Kase frowned and those eyes immediately shot back to the floor, head bowed, shaggy brown hair obscuring the jyonin's face. Kase smiled a predator's smile. Ken was _his_ now, to do with as he saw fit. They were alone; there were no witnesses or meddling comrades.

Gods, the things he could do. They warmed his blood, set it to boiling, and suddenly hundreds of visions of the things he'd wanted to do to Ken flooded his mind. To _hell_ with what that German bastard had said. Kase could kill Takatori himself. He wanted Ken to _suffer_; he'd waited long enough. And he knew, as he stared at that bowed, fragile form, he _knew_ he could bring incredible pain onto the ninja. Ken had given him the power without even knowing it.

"Wounded? Where? How badly?" he was proud at how concerned he'd managed to make himself sound.

"It's not important. Did they…what _happened_ to you?" Ken's reply was quick and full of fear, and the ninja still wouldn't look up at him. A point in Kase's favor since he was sure if Ken did look he'd sense the imminent danger he was in. A man could only hide so much. Kase toyed with how he wanted to answer that question and decided he did not want to accelerate the game just yet.

"_Much_ has happened to me." he said simply. Ken's skin turned a shade paler and his shoulders jerked once more.

"I….I'm sorry…" the brunet's voice cracked frailly on the word, as if he would shatter into pieces at any moment.

"It's unimportant, as you said… What's more important is the serious grievance you've committed against me." He wanted to laugh gleefully at the way the jyonin shrank into himself further, shuddering. He had never imagined the stubborn, willful Ken as being one so easy to break.

"I hope you've _suffered_…." he growled quietly. Ken froze, head slowly raising to find Kase's eyes.

"Wh-_what_?" the brunet murmured, shocked.

"You heard me. I hope you've suffered. You deserve it." Ken's whole body flinched backwards. He was dimly aware of a dark part of his mind screaming '_Ran, Ran, where's Ran?_' It was the same part that had warned him before. Ken was terrified. He cleared his throat roughly, still unable to move his eyes from Kase's face. He didn't understand how Kase could be so…forward about it. So vicious. This wasn't disappointment, or even an accusation of failure. This was _rage_. Unforgivness, he had been expecting, anger, he had been expecting, but this…unchecked animosity he had not predicted. Not even in his nightmares.

"I don't….Kase…?" he sounded lost and small. Kase's responding grin sent shivers of alarm down his spine. Why did something seem so wrong with this picture?

"You took everything away from me. _Everything_." the ex-ninja hissed, leaning so close that Ken hurriedly scrambled back. Kase laughed when he did, the sound slightly unhinged. "But I'm going to fix that now. You're _mine_, you belong to me, and I'm going to get what I deserve, finally, after all this time."

Ken felt his stomach drop when his back hit the wall. Gods, what had they _done_ to Kase? The once easy-going, careless youth had lost his mind. He looked terrifying, and the only reason Ken could see for the change was that they'd tortured him so badly he'd been warped.

And it was his fault. He'd believed Kase dead, and hadn't gone after him; hadn't even tried when he'd been well enough to do so, and _this_ is what had happened. Whatever Kase decided to do to him, Ken was sure he probably deserved it. He tried to say it, tried to apologize again, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"I'm going to make you pay just like everyone else. There's no reason for me to wait any longer. I've waited long enough. I'll make you _sorry_…" Kase was starting to mumble, and Ken frowned, something tugging at his consciousness. Wait…

"Everyone…_else_…?" Why was something about those two words not making sense? Takatori? _Who_ was everyone else…? Kase looked at him suddenly, as if he'd forgotten Ken was there for a moment. His face smoothed over and he straightened, regarding Ken with cold, lifeless eyes. Ken shuddered.

"The clan, of course." he said calmly. The bottom seemed to drop out of Ken's world, and it was hard to hear over the rising hysteria in his head.

"C-clan?" he heard himself choke out. Kase laughed again.

"Ahh, Hidaka…How silly of me to forget. You don't _know_, do you?" Ken weakly shook his head.

"Know…?"

"My _dear_, bumbling idiot of a father chose _you_ to succeed him after his death." at Ken's shell-shocked look, he continued, "You were supposed to find out when you returned from your little…mission…" Ken's jaw opened and shut several times before he could make the sound come out.

"Wait, _wh-what_?" he stammered, "He _what_!" Kase only laughed again.

"That's right Hidaka. He _disowned_ me, his own fucking _son_, the miserable bastard." Kase watched Ken closely, suddenly wondering if maybe the jyonin would pity him, feel outrage at the obvious indignity.

All Ken said was, "He disowned you? What about the clan?" Kase shook his head, slowly.

"You just don't get it, _do_ you Hidaka? In order for the change to pass, _all_ the jyonins had to agree, and thereby, the clan. That's how it's been done in the Kouichirou clan for generations. They all agreed. The last one to agree was supposed to be _you_. But that doesn't matter much anymore, does it?" Ken shook his head, wildly.

"What are you _saying_ Kase? You aren't making any sense…" he mumbled desperatly. But in truth he knew Kase was making _perfect_ sense, and that was what terrified him. He'd rather shoulder the blame himself than deal with _another_ betrayal.

"Exactly what you think I'm saying. I made sure they paid. With their lives. I _am_ the Tomo's son; and there _is_ no clan without me. I simply had to enforce it." Ken had gone very still.

"…You killed them?" the statement was so still it dropped from the atmosphere like a boulder between the two.

"I did more than just kill, Ken. I _destroyed_. I made sure there was nothing left. Nothing except you, of course. But I came here today to fix that too. You took everything away from me Ken, and I want _justice_." Kase replied evenly. Ken laughed, the sound strangled and hysterical; the verge of a sob, and rose sharply to his feet.

"You murdered your own _family_? Your own _people_? For _what_? Your fucking _family,_ Kase! Your own flesh and blood—"

"_Betrayed_ me!" Kase bellowed, cutting Ken's hysterical rant short, shooting to his own feet as well. "They fucking _betrayed_ me and if I could kill them again, I would! I _would_!" Ken cowered against the wall beneath the yell, trying to pull himself together; figure out what he was supposed to do. All his revenge was right here, but it was the Tomo's only son, and Ken didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do about it. Fuck, _Ken_ was the Tomo now, even though it really didn't make a difference, only that the clan name, the Kouichirou legacy, rested on _his_ shoulders. All his pain, all the deaths; Ken's very own family, all at the hands of the man who was supposed to protect them.

Before he could contemplate any farther, a sharp _hiss_ cut the air, and he felt himself slam back against the wall beneath the force of a blow to his chest.

"_KEN!_" the deep voice cut through the hysteria in the room, and both heads snapped towards the intruder.

Ran stood in the doorway, one hand still on the frame where he'd slammed it open, panting heavily. The other hand was holding a katana, pointed towards Kase menacingly. But Ran's wide, violet eyes were focused on Ken's chest, fear in their depths. Frowning, Ken looked down slowly.

_Oh._

He was bleeding. Odd. He hadn't felt any pain. But there, protruding almost obscenely from his chest, was a rather large shuriken. It flashed in the dim light, making the dark, dark stain slowly pooling around it look far more menacing than it possibly was. It seeped into the navy blue of Ken's hakama serenely, and Ken felt his knees give-out in shock. Ran was at his side before he could slump to the floor, Kase somehow temporarily forgotten. Pale fingers hovered uncertainly over the wound, afraid to touch, shaking.

"Ken…Gods…I'm so sorry…I…I tried to find you, I…Don't move, just lay still…everything's going to be alright…" Ken smiled, pressing tanned fingers against dusk lips.

"Shh. You _did_ find me. Ran…Kase…" Ken stopped as two more _hisses _cut the air. There was the sharp sound of steel ringing in his ears and he realized that Ran had blocked Kase's next attack with his sword. The two shuriken went soaring away haphazardly, one landing in the door and the other slicing through the tatami. The ronin had turned his attention onto the other dark-haired man, and was glaring at Kase with an expression that Ken had never seen before, but chilled his blood. The brunet sensed the only reason Ran hadn't gone for Kase's throat was the blood now soaking into his haori freely. Ken could feel it flowing down his chest towards his hakama. Still, he could not feel the pain. Kase advanced upon them menacingly, and Ran growled, sword flashing as he angled his blade threateningly. Kase paused, cocking his head slightly.

"Oh? Do you think you can stop me? I'll kill you too. Just because you _aggravate_ me so much. Do you have any idea how long I waited to get Ken away from you? You and that _boy_. Always so close… I won't let you come between me and what's mine…" the man crooned silkily. He reached into his gi, and Ken was up before Ran could react, wrenching the shuriken from his own chest and letting it fly toward Kase's. Unfortunately, the dark-haired man had been prepared, and he avoided injury smoothly, sliding to the side like water slipping from rocks. The shuriken imbedded itself harmlessly in the opposite wall.

"That's not nice." Kase hissed, pulling a _kunai_ from the folds of his clothing. Ken tensed, angling himself and unsheathing his wakezashi. Behind him, he heard the sharp hiss of steal that indicated Ran doing the same thing. Ken felt himself panting heavily, ready for Kase's next assault. The chances that he would be able to deflect a kunai with only his wakezashi were slim, and Ken wished suddenly that he'd had time to pull his hand claws out and strap them on. The wider, sturdier steel surface would have done better.

At the very least, he could be sure the attack didn't hit Ran.

Kase raised his arm, and both men tensed.

There was a sudden, high-pitch shriek, soft and metallic, and Kase froze, the kunai hitting the floor behind him with a resounding _thud_. Ken blinked, confused.

"That's far enough, Kouichirou." a voice called from the doorway. The man standing there looked familiar to Ken, although he wasn't sure _why_. Behind him, Ran snorted, shifting his weight slightly.

"Took you long enough, Kudo." he grunted. Yohji's only response was to toss an errant lock of hair aside and smirk.

"Ran into the chibi on the way up." he said airily. It was then Ken noticed Omi standing beside the stranger, several shuriken in his own fingers and ready for business. His normally wide blue eyes were narrowed dangerously at Kase, full of hate.

Wait…what the hell were all these people doing here? Fully armed no less? Somehow, Ken just _knew_ he was missing something…A soft splatter indicated that his blood had pooled into his gi and was dripping towards the floor. Ken wondered at the lack of pain for another brief instant until he turned eyes wide with realization on Kase's face.

"That's right, Hidaka." the man panted. "I fused the poison into that blade myself."

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ahhh! OH no! Don't worry, I promise Ken won't die, and the story would die if he had to spend another month as an invalid, so he will get out of this, I assure you. In the mean time, Because Dir en Grey is on Tuesday (April 5th), I regret to inform you all that I may not be able to update again until the seventh or eighth.

Also, after the Kase segment, I'd like the reader's opinion : Would anyone be interested in having me finish the entire arch, or do you think it better to end after Kase? Let me know. If people are interested in the rest of the story, I don't mind writing it, although I have a big project due in May for my boss and so updates will start to slow so I can actually do my JOB. (Wow…) The procrastinator in me can't keep me away for too much longer. Jan a, minna!


	26. Truth and Lies

And the conclusion. Of Kase anyway.

Notes : In Bushido, a samurai's sword is his _soul_. ( I got seriously reamed out by stepping over some bamboo practice ones during kendo and have not forgotten since. SO embarrassing….) Hence, Ken is able to _feel_ Ran's sword, as the swordsman probably puts a lot of stock in that. It's the best explanation I could come up with for Ran being so possessive with the katana, and it makes the most sense. That would make it a personally sacred object for the guy. Not something you want other people handling and throwing around….:shudders:

Onwards!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_The last night of the month, no moon:_

_Thousand-year-old cedars _

_Besieged by a storm."_

_Matsuo Basho_

It was too bad, really, that Kase had come to the wrong assumption. Although that sort of slip-up was going to work in Ken's favor. The brunet forced his face into an expression of surprised pain and dropped dramatically to his knees, clutching at the warm, damp spot on his chest. Breathing heavily without hyperventilating proved to be slightly more difficult, and so Ken settled instead for making his breaths quieter and seemingly shallower. Forcing his heart and pulse to weaken and slow was much, much more difficult. In all his missions, Ken had never actually had to use that bit of training in quite this context. The context being of course, that he was dying.

Behind him, he heard Ran's sharp intake of breath and winced internally. Oh, shit, this wasn't going to be easy on Ran's emotions. Ken knew that Ran was as dependent, if not more, on Ken's company as Ken was on his. That horrible, horrible fear of being alone; _again_ was too much to bear. But the brunet took consolation in the fact that Ran would not suffer for long.

He felt strong arms slide beneath his armpits and pull him back gently, pull him down to rest against the floor, and then Ran's face was above him, stoic, a quiet agony of acceptance for what the red-head thought was surely the end. Ken wondered if Ran might understand the desire behind seppuku now. Good thing he wasn't going to have to find out.

"Ran-kun, let me." Omi was beside him suddenly, blue eyes solemn and serious, brushing Ran's fingers away. The ronin's protest died on his lips as he saw Omi reach into his sleeves and begin pulling out medicines and antidotes.

"I'll leave it to you then, Omi." the ronin's voice was clear and unwavering as he stood, sword at ready, and angled himself menacingly at Kase. There was the hiss of wire tightening and the sound of Yohji's footsteps entering the room. Still, Kase seemed unperturbed. Ken really did wonder then when Kase had gone from wastrel son to insane maniac. Looking at those dark eyes, the rage had vanished into an enraptured madness as the man stared at the jyonin with an ecstasy that made Ken's stomach tighten into a knot.

Knowing that Kase was 'watching', Ken allowed a shudder of 'agony' to pass through his body, rolling his eyes upward and arching his head against the floor beneath him. Steeling himself briefly so as not to flinch, the brunet bit down hard on one side of his tongue. He allowed the blood to well briefly with satisfaction, and when the coppery taste seemed to fill his mouth, he coughed slightly, opening his lips and letting the red liquid spill over them.

"Ken-kun!" Beside him, Omi jerked in surprise, immediately moving to wipe the blood away with the corner of one perfect silk sleeve. Ran spared him a glance, eyes widening briefly in fear as he saw the blood. Ken tried to smile reassuringly as Omi pressed at the 'wound' in his chest, but was sure with the blood likely on his teeth the sight was probably more horrifying than reassuring. Ran turned away abruptly, and Ken could see him doing everything to pull himself together.

Shit. This was starting to be emotionally painful for the brunet; watching Ran suffer on his behalf was _not_ something the ninja was enjoying. To say the least. The pressure on his chest stopped, and Ken turned slowly to look back at Omi, keeping his eyes slightly unfocused as he forced another shudder to pass through his body. Omi was smirking at him slyly. Oh. So Omi knew now too. Good. Playing along, the youth hid the expression from the others and sighed heavily, pulling Ken's gi closed more securely. He shook his head with slow finality and turned mournful blue eyes towards Ran and Yohji.

"It's no good. The poison is too-fast. I'll—I'll never catch it in time." Omi's eyes wavered, getting larger if that was possible, and Ken mentally felt his respect for the kid go up a notch. The boy knew how to use that delicate face and those baby blues. He chewed his lower lip in an expression of extreme guilt.

"Ran-kun I….I'm so sorry…."

Ken's light-hearted appraisal of Omi ended when he saw the color drain from the ronin's face. Shock-filled violet eyes fell into his own and Ken tried another smile, feeling the blood seep from the corner of his mouth again as he did so. The brunet coughed for effect, hating himself as Ran visibly flinched.

"S-Sorry, Ran. So sorry…." he rasped, beginning to get annoyed at the amount of blood welling up in his mouth. Apparently he'd bitten harder than necessary, and he was starting to make a mess. Omi pulled a cloth from his gi and wiped at Ken's chin with it delicately. Across the room, the brunet that Ran had called 'Kudo' had paled considerably, and tightened his hold on the wires he was gripping viciously. Kase's arm jerked, but he never moved his gaze from Ken's body. Ken wondered why Kudo was reacting so visibly. They hadn't met before, right?

Ran padded to his side softly and quickly, and knelt down, pulling Ken's head into his lap gently. Ken winced and forced his body to spasm, coughing again. The ronin frowned and drew in another breath sharply.

"Gomen, Ken." The red-head looked on the verge of tears, and the despair in his face was so great that Ken had to close his eyes. He forced his breathing to soften further, his heart rate slow and weaken to near-undetection. It was difficult, and took nearly all of his concentration at first, but when his senses finally sharpened again, Ran's low, tremulous voice was unmistakable.

"I. _Will_. Kill. You."

Kase laughed, a high, maniacal sound.

"Killing me won't bring him back! Look at him! Just look! He's already so far gone he can't even open his eyes anymore! Soon he'll be dead. And then my revenge will be nearly complete."

"You killed your own _family_? Your own _clan_? Why would you do something like that?" Ran's voice was quiet with cold fury, disgust. "Ken searched and prayed for you. He though you'd been _tortured_ to death. He was ready to wreak revenge in your honor! How can you abuse that kind of loyalty!" The very concept sounded beyond Ran's comprehension, and a wavering note in the redhead's tone told Ken that there was a more personal link to Ran's accusation that went beyond Kase's betrayal. The ninja wondered what it was.

"_Loyalty_? Hah! What loyalty? I was disowned! Some _loyalty_!"

Ken remembered bitterly all of the times Kase had come back to the village drunk or in trouble over some woman or bar-fight. Or having gambled himself into debit. Again. He'd never exhibited interest in his training _once_. That he'd been disowned made sense to Ken now. What didn't make sense was the betrayal. Even disowned, Kase was still the Tomo's _son_, and thereby entitled to live well and be provided for by the village. He'd grown-up there, lovingly taken care of by everyone. How many times had Ken and the guys gotten Kase out of his scrapes without letting his father or mother find out about it?

Loyalty had blinded them _all_. Loyalty and pride; the pride of generations of serving the emperor had made them sloppy and blind to the truth. They had covered Kase's tracks because they hadn't wanted to believe in the disgrace; they hadn't wanted anyone else to believe it.

But it had cost them their lives. Somewhere along the way Kase had grown unbalanced. Perhaps if they'd confronted him….

It didn't matter anymore. Ken knew such hatred and rage it took him an effort not explode with it. Kase was going to _die_ for this. He was going to _suffer_ and go to hell for what he'd done. To betray your own kind was _unforgivable_.

"_This_ is the loyalty I deserve. He's going to die for me. Just like the rest of them. Aren't you, Hidaka?" Kase's voice had moved closer, slicing through Ken's thoughts like a hot knife; the tone had become eerily… _affectionate_, and there was the simultaneous sound of Ran's, Omi's, and Kudo's weapons all tensing and pulling into some form of battle-ready or another. Ken could hear Kase's arm lurch back; the sound of cotton tearing slightly at a seam with a quiet '_shriek'_.

"Touch him and _die_." Ran's threat was serious and deadly, and Ken couldn't help the shiver that coursed through his body at the icy tone. The sound of a sword slithering from its sheath informed the brunet that Ran had drawn his katana. Ken could feel the katana's presence somewhere above him and mentally cursed. How was he supposed to be up and moving to attack Kase with a blade right there?

"Oh? You're going to stop me…?" was the ex-ninja's silky reply. Deadly. Kase may not have been the best ninja, but he was also off-balanced which gave him advantage over everyone in the room. No one knew what to expect.

Everything that happened next seemed to happen at once. The air hung heavy with silence and Ken heard the light rustle of Kase reaching into his gi from somewhere above him while the sound of a snapping wire was heard. At the same time, that the man called Kudo let loose with a curse, Omi called out a "Ran-kun!" in warning.

The ruse was up, and Ken had no choice but to attack now and hope to land a hit or risk Ran getting seriously wounded. With a powerful thrust, the brunet sent his fist plowing heavily into Kase's gut, opening his eyes. He shot to his feet like lightening as the man staggered back, staring at him in open shock. Ken smiled bitterly, hand claws now out and ready for business. There were several surprised exclamations of his name, and he wondered briefly what he must look like. Growling, he turned his head slightly, eyes still on Kase, and spat a well of blood from his mouth.

"If I die for anyone, it won't be you." The jyonin hissed, teeth bared in a bloody grimace, and launched himself forward. Although the kill would not be as easy as he had originally intended, Kase's shock, coupled with the hand still entangled in remnants of Kudo's wire, was enough. Which was fine with Ken. He wanted Kase to _suffer_. The most painful death imaginable; reserved only for traitors.

The jyonin moved like a cobra, first left, then right, then back again, zig-zagging, almost as if drunk, and furthering the ex-ninja's confusion. Without hesitation, as there could be none, Ken shot forward with incredible speed and force; Kase's form a blur before his eyes, only the gut in front of him focused clearly.

The feeling of solid steel blades pushing into soft, sinewy flesh felt surprisingly good, and so very, very _simple_. So _easy. _Ken tightened his fist on his weapon grip and shoved Ryuuta's hand-claw up through Kase's stomach to his chest before wrenching it out with a vicious turn. He laughed; a high, strange sound, at the shock on Kase's face.

"_Traitor_. Do you know, if the clan were still alive, what kind of punishment would be reserved for someone like you?…." the words were a hiss more than anything else when they left Ken's mouth, and Kase's shocked face twisted into a grim smile. Ken dug the blades of both hands into the man's ribs abruptly. The smile was quickly replaced by a tide of blood falling down Kase's chin. Ken could feel his own blood leaking down his face from his gods-dammned bitten tongue.

"You're killing the Tomo's son….. the clan's last survivor….. and you're calling _me_ the… traitor….."

Ken blanched at the accusation and shook his head rapidly.

"No. You're _wrong_. You're the traitor. You killed them all. And I _promised_ them. I _promised_ revenge. If I could, I'd string you up and take you _apart_; bit by tiny fucking bit…I would fucking make you _eat_ your own damn intestines…" The blades dug deeper and Kase choked.

"You're going… to hell, you know…."

Ken's smile was bitterly satisfied. "After you." he spat viciously, ripping the blades out brutally. There was a sickening '_squelch'_ sound as the steel exited flesh and Kase slumped to the floor, gore trailing the wall behind him.

Ken stood above him, panting for a moment in the shocked stillness that seemed to hover in the air around him before crouching down to watch the fire die in the ex-ninja's eyes with a dark curiosity. Kase was suffering; he was sure of it. But the brunet didn't feel any better. It didn't make the pain of loss and suffering any less. It just made him feel hollow inside. Empty. What kind of a world was this? The enemy right inside his very own home? Trusted so blindly? So loyally? Kase's chin had fallen to his chest, but he gave Ken a dark, bloody grin.

"I won…. I _won_. ….Even…now…. you're going to _die_, you're going…. to suffer for all eternity…. All of you are….I'll be waiting for you….Hidaka…." and the fire died. Ken's own breath seemed to stop in his lungs as he watched Kase's body settled into death; muscles relaxing, lungs expelling the final breath of air.

"Sorry, you're going to be waiting a long time asshole." Ken spat.

And just like that, it was over. All the suffering, for _this_. The emptiness intensified, and Ken buried blood-soaked fingers into sweaty brown locks, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a low moan. It was over, but it hadn't even started really, and Ken wondered what he was supposed to live for now, what purpose he was supposed to give to his life. Revenge was empty. A choked sob escaped his lips and then Ken was forcing himself into control. He was going to live. He wasn't dying, not physically anyways, and he could figure the rest out later.

His spine snapped to rigid attention and he pulled his hands from his hair, slowly rising to his feet. He had just unstraped the hand claws and was lovingly removing them when a pair of strong arms grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to turn around so quickly he fought a brief spell of dizziness, the blood that was still slowly leaking from his mouth spattering onto his gi-front. When his head cleared, Ken found himself looking into wide violet eyes. Tentative hands sought out his gi, shaking, searching for the location of the 'wound'. Dumbly, Ken watched as they shoved the rough navy-blue material aside, pulling out a blackened bamboo ink well. The amethyst gaze darkened with understanding as trembling fingers wiped at the soot-colored liquid marring the golden skin on Ken's chest. When they sought what they were looking for; Ken whole and in-tact, the ronin sighed heavily with relief. The silence in the room was deafening as Ran rearranged the brunet's clothing back into place carefully. Ken winced internally as the pain he had put Ran through suddenly converged upon him all at once.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but the ronin beat him to it.

A pale, firm fist came streaking across Ken's jaw so hard that he fell backwards, landing on top of Kase's still warm corpse, head snapping back to collide with the dead-man's skull painfully.

"Ran-kun!"

"Oi, Fujimiya! What the hell are you doing?"

Omi and Yohji both went unheeded by the redhead. An angry plum gaze settled on Ken's form, but Ran surprised him yet again, yanking him back up without a word and wrapping arms around him so fiercely that Ken wondered if he'd have any ribs left unbroken.

"Asshole." the ronin growled into his ear, although the slur lacked any real heat. Ken wanted to say 'it would have worked if you'd have put the damn blade away.', but he couldn't make himself do it. He deserved any punishment the man doled out.

"I'm sorry." was all he said. Ran held him tighter and Ken squeaked, the bamboo inkwell cracking apart and sending a tide of warm black ink down his stomach and into his pants. He squirmed in discomfort. Ran's soft chuckle vibrated against his chest warmly.

"Baka. I don't care. As long as you're alive." he murmured softly, anger gone. Ken narrowed his eyes and tried to pull away, although the hold Ran had on him did not lessen and he nearly collided his forehead with the redhead's shin.

"Hey! Then why the hell did you fucking punch me you jerk? That hurt!" as if to illustrate the point, Ken flexed his jaw carefully, and a fresh bit of blood leaked from between his lips. Ken turned his head and spat it out. "Damn." he muttered darkly.

"Why are you bleeding?" Ran's voice was carefully controlled.

"I bit my tongue so it looked more real. You know what poison can do to your insides? I figured he probably picked something nasty so I felt it might be prudent and convince him I was suffering." Ken felt himself crushed against Ran's chest again, the demolished bamboo still creaking slightly in protest. At this rate he was going to lose his dye too.

"You did a damn good job." the ronin's voice sounded slightly strange, as if he were talking in the back of this throat. Ken didn't say anything; he simply let the redhead hold him close for a moment.

"_Well_." a smooth voice interrupted the silence. The brunet felt Ran tense in annoyance.

"You two seemed to have gotten awfully close since I've been gone." Ran and Ken turned as one to face Kudo, Yohji, who was now lounging in the doorway with an air of boredom hovering about him.

"Yohji-kun!" Omi admonished him.

"Kudo." Ran growled, eyes narrowed. Ken frowned.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked carefully. Everyone in the room turned to look at him, and Yohji looked slightly offended.

"Why, Kenken…I'm your knight in shining armor, of course…I'm hurt you don't remember…." Ken's frown turned confused, and Ran's growl got deeper. Omi just shook his head.

"Yohji-kun, of course he doesn't remember you. He was only half conscious." Ken looked back and forth between the two before looking back up at Ran, who shrugged, releasing him just slightly to grimace at the black ink now marring his haori in distaste. Ken winced, fishing the remnants of bamboo out of his gi.

"Why…" he began slowly, tossing them onto the floor while Ran scowled disapprovingly.

"Ken, you've ruined the tatami." the redhead muttered in disgust. Ken ignored him, refraining on commenting on the blood adorning the room, and pinned his gaze on Yohji and Omi, who suddenly looked guilty.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something here?" he asked suspiciously. Omi and Yohji both heaved a heavy sigh. Oh boy. That wasn't promising….

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Okay, back from DEG in Sendai (it was fantastic!), loads of work to do and more coming in, and so the updates may very well start slowing. Thanks for all those reviews, and as requested, I will keep up with the arch! Thanks again everyone! Again, I don't really have any betas, or any time, and so pardon me for inconsitencies….Please let me know if you feel the characters slipping, cause they feel kinda like that to me. Okay, I'm off…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	27. Shadows of white

Hrm, no notes here, just a thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! Holy explanations batman! Take it away, boys! It's time for Ran and Ken to join the dark side! Mwahahahahahaha:coughcough: I've been here way too long…..

OOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOO

"_A pile of leeks lie_

_Newly washed white:_

_How cold it is!" _

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Chapter 13**_

Omi squirmed uncomfortably beneath Ken's suddenly intense gaze. Ran was no help. Neither was Yohji. The tall brunet seemed amused by the redhead's fiery gaze, and he reached into his sleeve, pulling out his tobacco pipe. Dammit. Why the hell was this all on _his_ shoulders? Yohji was the one who'd started all this.

"Yohji-kun, I think you should probably tell Ken how you know him." the blonde youth prompted gently, expression stern. He wasn't letting Yohji slide out of this one. When Yohji frowned at him, he mouthed 'you owe me', which was true, considering all the times Omi had faced Manx's wrath to get Yohji out of trouble. Namely the day Yohji had rescued Ken.

With a heavy sigh, the brunet straightened himself, casually stuffing his pipe and then lighting it with a flint. After he inhaled deeply, he stepped more fully into the room, letting the smoke flow from his mouth slowly. It encircled his head hazily, giving the lanky playboy an almost ethereal look. Ken stared at him resolutely, grimacing in distaste at the tobacco, still wrapped within Ran's iron grip. It looked like the ronin wasn't planning on letting him go any time soon. Ken bore the hold stoically, however. Although Omi suspected the ink in his clothing and on his skin was doubtless starting to itch. The youth winced as he took in the blood and the ink stains around the room. Kritiker was _not_ going to like this clean-up. But at least Ken looked whole and relatively stable. And Kase was definitely dead.

Yohji sighed dramatically, and tossed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes. It fell back into his face almost immediately as the man gave Ken a leer.

"I found you, you know, and dragged you to safety that night. Took care of you until you decided you could do well enough on your own and wandered off." Ran's glare turned subzero at the remark as Ken frowned confusedly, clearly struggling to put the memories together. He seemed rather hesitant to do so and Omi couldn't blame him.

"He did _not_ have the mental capacity, at the time, to decide he'd do better on his own. You _left_ him and he wandered off because he was delirious with _fever_." Ran accused menacingly, his grasp on Ken tightening in reflexive anger. Ken made a squelching noise and Ran loosened his hold, blushing a bit.

"It's fine to be angry Ran, but can you please not take it out on me? I like breathing. It's nice." the ninja quipped, glancing up at the redhead for a moment. Ran scowled at him, but before he could say anything, Ken's attention was already on Yohji again.

"Wait, so you _found_ me and took care of me? When? How? How long? _Why_?" Ken was beginning to wonder at the number of people on hand that were caring for him or _had_ cared for him at some point. It was starting to get creepy. A thought repeated itself in his head and Ken voiced it out loud once more. "Okay, _what_ am I missing here? Cause I know I'm missing something important." This time the tone had a slight accusation in it. Yohji had lost his smirk and was still glaring at Ran. But at the sound of Ken's voice he turned serious emerald eyes onto the ninja's slightly shorter form.

"Ken, the night you were injured I found you, and took you off to a friend of mine. I needed a good place to hide you, for now obvious reasons, and she knew of such a place. Unfortunately, I had other _serious_ business to attend to that could _not_ be avoided, and so I had to leave you there. The woman I left you with also could not stay with you constantly. When you woke, you set off on your own. I'm sorry I left you alone like that. I had no choice." the lanky brunet's voice was somber; his gaze on both Ran and Ken, and Ken frowned.

"Well, first of all, don't apologize. You didn't have to do anything at all. You could have just left me there. I know a lot of people that would have. It's a lot of trouble to go through for a stranger. So don't blame yourself for that. You did more than was your duty, I think." Here the ninja was interrupted by a snort from Ran.

"Kudo could have at least finished through with his responsibility." the ronin muttered. Ken turned to look up at the redhead again with serious, sober eyes.

"Ran, whatever you may think, Yohji wasn't obligated to do _anything_ for me. I was a stranger. For all he knew, I was a murder, or a bandit. I could have tried to stab him in the back when I woke up. He took a big risk taking care of me. Would you have done the same if you had just seen me lying in the woods?"

The question was an honest one, and Ran frowned at it. "Idiot. What kind of question is _that_? Of course. You don't just walk past an injured man lying in the woods or on the road. That's inhuman." Ken sighed, shaking his head.

"Then you've got better morals than most. Kudo-san, thank you for saving me. I doubtless owe you my life. Please don't feel guilty about having to leave me. It was understandable.---" here Yohji cut off Ken's formal thanks.

"Ahh, KenKen, it's not that simple you know. You see, I _knew_ who you were. And where you had come from. I'd been watching you nearly the whole evening. I _saw_ the fight with Takatori's bodyguards…" Ran's arms tightened in anger again and this time Ken squelched and turned his head to the side, spitting out a bit more blood. He forced the ronin's arms into a loose hold.

"Ran, you're going to break something." he murmured before turning a calculating, even gaze onto Yohji. The playboy bore up beneath it unflinchingly, a smile curving up one side of his mouth as he took a drag from his long-forgotten pipe. Omi stepped up beside the man supportively and Ken felt Ran tense beside him in readiness, one hand leaving the embrace and resting on his sword hilt in a casually threatening gesture. But the ninja was still trying to process all that information.

"Wait….You _what_?" he asked eloquently, both eyebrows arching towards his hairline.

"Explain, Kudo." Ran growled, "Because that's not what you told_ me_." Ken looked at the redhead in confusion for a moment before looking back towards Yohji.

"Wait, you _know_ him?" the jyonin asked the redhead incredulously. How much had he missed when he was incapacitated? _Too_ much, apparently. Nothing was making any sense.

"Yes." Ran replied evenly. "After I had _found_ you and was taking care of you, Kudo came and tried to take you back beneath his _care_. After the way you'd stumbled upon me unattended, I refused him." Ken judged by the way Ran's jaw had tensed that the ronin was grinding his teeth. At least he'd stopped squeezing the life out of the ninja. Ran had really, _really_ strong arms. But he wasn't going to think about that now. Nor was he going to think about Kase's rapidly cooling corpse behind them.

Omi sighed heavily, drawing all attention to himself.

"Yohji-kun was working as a double-spy until recently for the same organization that I told you about before, Ran-kun. When he saw Ken, he felt obligated to rescue him. However, as a spy, he could not afford to miss meeting with his contacts, and so had to leave Ken behind." the youth explained patiently. Ken frowned thoughtfully, but Ran only tensed further behind him.

"What kind of _spy_?" the ronin growled. Ken put a hand up to silence him briefly.

"Hold on Ran. A spy for _who_?" the ninja asked carefully. Inwardly, Omi and Yohji both breathed a sigh of relief. At least Ken, it seemed, was going to take this thoughtfully instead of irrationally. Omi had expected that Ken's nature as a ninja would not let him react in any other way.

"Kritiker. The organization I work for. The same one that housed us in safety at the inn." Omi said evenly.

"You said _double_-spy. Who else?" Ken crossed his arms and turned in Ran's one-arm embrace to face Yohji and Omi completely, his stance straightforward and confrontational.

Omi smirked slightly. Trust nothing to get past Ken.

"Takatori, Reiji. Yohji's job was to pull himself into Takatori's confidences and gather information to use against him in an assassination." the youth said simply. At the mention of Takatori's name, Ran went rigid, but Ken ducked out of the man's embrace before he got any broken ribs. The ronin's fist clenched instead, knuckles white, and his lips pressed into a thin line. To his credit, however, the redhead said nothing. Ken crossed his arms in front of him again, legs apart, stance casual yet wary.

"You said _was_. He _was_ a spy. Isn't he one now? How can he be trusted?" the ninja's tone was controlled and calculated. Prying, but not defensive. Clearly, Ken did not feel Omi and Yohji were a direct threat. The ninja seemed more interested in piecing the puzzle together. Ran, apparently, had the same idea, only with a different reaction.

"Aren't you even the slightest bit concerned Ken? Kudo just admitted to watching you fight and suffer alone, knowing who you were and what had happened to you. He's a double spy for _Takatori_; the man who's responsible for the _destruction_ of your clan. Why aren't you more upset about all this?" the ronin demanded. Ken only shook his head slowly, body visibly tenser, his face suddenly shadowed beneath his brown fringe.

"No, Ran." he began quietly, "_Kase_ destroyed his _own_ clan. Takatori didn't _force_ him into betrayal. He only offered Kase the means, I'm sure. Kase had enough greed and traitorous blood in his body to agree to whatever it was he agreed to. Therefore, _Kase_ is the monster that killed my clan, not Takatori. Takatori was only a tool." Ken's voice had sank into a whisper and his shoulders curled in on themselves as if beneath a sudden weight. Ran felt a twinge of regret for speaking as abruptly as he had. In the anger of Ken's bit of 'acting', the ronin had forgotten exactly _who_ it was that Ken had just murdered. Viciously.

"I was the one who was responsible. We _all_ were in a way. Too proud and stupid to see it…None of us wanted to…" there was a hoarse quality to the ninja's voice as he turned mournful eyes to where Kase's corpse lay. Ran laid a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Ken…" he said softly. Anything to bring the brunet's attention away from the monster on the floor; away from sins real or imagined. Ken turned abruptly, with a soft sigh, and gave Ran a smile that didn't reach his eyes. When he spoke, there was a false lightness in his tone.

"But I want to hear Kudo-san and Omi out. If they'd wanted to kill us, they could have, at any time. Instead they put in a lot of effort to _help_, and I want to know _why_." the ninja finished, turning a sharp gaze back on the two men who had fallen into silence.

Yohji favored him with a lazy smirk and Omi a small smile.

" 'At's cause we're the good guys." Yohji drawled. Omi elbowed him, rolling his eyes.

"No, that's because we want their help." the youth growled in exasperation. And maybe now I'll get a breather from working with an ass like you all the time." Yohji grabbed his chest with his free hand and staggered back dramatically, as if shot through the chest.

"Omittchi, you _wound_ me!" the lanky man accused. Omi rolled his eyes again.

"Save it for when you really need it, Yohji-kun." he grumped. Yohji just sighed and shook his head, a look of mock-sadness on his face.

"Oh, the suffering I endure…" he replied dramatically. Ran snorted but refrained from comment, and Ken was giving them his bizarre, puzzled frown again.

"So wait…" he began slowly, arms unfolding to gesture from first Yohji then to Omi. "You guys work together? For this organization called _Kritker_? And you want my—_our_ help? With what? How are we supposed to trust you? What _is_ Kritiker? And what do they _do_?" this time, the suspicion in Ken's voice was a bit heavier. Omi gave Ken his most sincere smile, but before he could begin to explain, Yohji slung an arm around the youth's shoulders casually and took a deep drag of his pipe, exhaling the smoke upwards towards the ceiling. It simply bounced back and enveloped Omi and Yohji in a haze, and the blond youth coughed, waving his hand before his face and wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Yohji-kun!" he admonished, but Yohji was already focused on the two across the room.

"I already told you. We're the _good_ guys. We take from the rich and give to the poor, and yadda yadda." The playboy replied with a casual grin, gesturing with his pipe. Omi extracted himself from Yohji's grip carefully, and once he was in a bit of clear air, he took a deep breath and sent the lanky brunet a sharp glare.

"_Kritiker_ is an organization that has set itself out to control the corruption that is unreachable to the law." he said, fixing Ran and Ken with an even gaze, although a bit of his irritation with the playboy showed in the downward curve of his mouth.

"Way to make it sound exciting, kiddo." Yohji quipped sarcastically. Omi glared at him, azure eyes hardened into stones.

"It's the _truth_, Yohji-kun." he shot back angrily.

"Wait, wait. So let me get this straight. You guys are—vigilantes? Vigilantes have an organization now?" Ken asked, his hands on his hips. Ran merely continued to scowl at Yohji, remaining close to Ken. Omi shook his head mirthfully, smiling at Ken.

"I guess you could say that." he replied easily.

"And you want us to what?" Ken quipped flatly, crossing his arms once more and raising his eyebrows. Ran's gaze focused on him intensely as well, and Omi fought the urge to squirm. This was the hard part. He really didn't want to have to kill the two if they refused. Assuming he and Yohji even _could_. After the display he'd just witnessed between Ken and Kase, Omi wasn't so sure they'd be able to do it. He'd seen both men at practice. Both were powerful and lethal. All the more reason to work hard to convince them.

"Well," Omi began tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

"Kiddo, if you're going to be blunt about the truth, then don't flower this part with pretty words." Yohji's voice had gone dead serious, and he turned sharp, somber eyes onto Ran and Ken. "Kritker is an assasins' organization. Information gathering goes with that kind of occupation, but our main thrust is enforcing the lack of corruption. Which of course, is best done by removing the problem from the system entirely. We're murders. And that's what Kritiker wants from you too." The room fell into a serious silence, Ran and Ken staring hard at the two men across the room. Finally, it was Ran who spoke.

"And you want to eliminate Takatori?" he asked coldly. Omi and Yohji nodded.

"That's the plan." Yohji quipped, although his face remained stone serious. His pipe smoked in one hand, forgotten.

"Who, exactly, heads this organization?" Ken asked cautiously, angling his head in consideration.

"The emperor." Omi said evenly. Ken gasped and Ran tensed.

"And you expect us to believe that this isn't some ploy to overthrow the new government?" the ronin growled in a low voice.

"If it was, would you be objecting to that? You like the new government?" Yohji replied flatly, the corners of his mouth turning down. Ran balked.

"I didn't say that. I want to be clear as to what sort of pawns this _Kritker_ expects us to become." he replied icily. Ken, however, looked thoughtful.

"_Kritiker_. I remember hearing about you guys from Tomo-sama in passing." the ninja remarked, bringing a hand to his chin. He looked up at Omi and managed a shrug.

"The Kouichirou clan was doing that sort of thing _anyways_, so 'murdering' isn't really a shock. I've been killing since I was twelve. My concern would be Ran's ; what this organization expects, and what, exactly, we'd be getting ourselves into." the brunet said easily.

Ran turned to look at Ken in surprise. He'd remembered hearing that the Kouichirou clan had been destroyed for it's open and unyielding loyalty to the emperor, but somehow, he'd neglected to think of what Ken's position had meant. The man was young still, perhaps not yet twenty, and to have been accelerated into such a high position so quickly meant Ken had begun taking heavier jobs at a young age. The ronin suppressed a shudder. At twelve he hadn't even graduated into using his katana yet. Ken had committed his first murder. What had it felt like? Still a boy…Omi's voice cut through his thoughts sharply.

"In order to run this kind of organization and keep it from the public eye; in order to keep the government from discovering the truth, Kritiker demands unyielding loyalty and obedience. In return, you will be given the opportunity to make a difference in this world."

"In a warped sort of way, anyways. Not exactly something you'll want to go down in history with, but something that's going to keep bad shit from happening to people who don't deserve it." Yohji cut in, smirk back in place, although not reaching his eyes. He puffed casually at his pipe, realized it had gone out, and relit it with a soft curse.

"Ken-kun." Omi turned soft, mournful eyes towards the ninja suddenly. "We found out about the ambush, but not in enough time to do anything about it; we-we didn't even have time to get a warning out it happened so fast…" the youth began apologetically. Yohji's face pulled into a severe frown.

"Yeah. By the time I found out, it was too late already. I couldn't get word out fast enough. Although not for lack of trying. Shit." The playboy scrubbed roughly at his face and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it. Ken's smile was sad and bitter.

"I already told you. We were the ones foremost responsible for our fate. Even if you had warned us, we may not have listened. So just shut up about it already." the ninja looked away for a moment, and when he turned back the haunted look still hovered in the back of his face. But he smiled.

"And the requirements?" Ran pushed tonelessly, one eyebrow raised. Omi jumped gratefully onto the change of subject.

"That's just it. Obedience and loyalty. We have to be able to have 100 trust in our agents." the youth replied in a business-like manner.

"And in exchange?" the redhead replied.

"A big, fat purse, and a means to extract revenge without being questioned." Yohji stated bluntly, taking another drag from his pipe and smirking genuinely. "And of course, the women, but I don't think that's going to be much of a highlight for you, somehow." he quipped, eyeing Ken up and down appraisingly. Ken blushed and Ran growled again. Before any damage could be done, Omi stepped between the two, filling Ran's line of sight.

"You will be paid. And as Yohji said, you will have means for your revenge on Takatori, as well as the unquestioned authority to carry it out. So long as you obey Kritiker's rules. Which you already know. If you like, You can talk to Manx, and Persia, who head the organization, and make your decision then. In the mean time, we should stick together. Kritiker will clean up this mess, but we should lay low for awhile just as we have been. Takatori is still looking for Ken, remember. " Yohji suddenly lost a bit of color.

"Ken." he said evenly, meeting the ninja's gaze. "Those men you fought. The foreigners. They'll be back. Takatori has them hunting you down, and you're gonna have to be very careful. You won't be able to hide from them for long. And this time, their mission is to kill you. They're going to do their damnest to carry it out."

Ken blanched slightly, remembering the fight. Ran tensed beside him, eyes narrowing. He remembered those wounds. How could he forget? The scars were still newly-formed on the ninja's body."

"Takatori's bodyguards?" he asked coldly. Yohji and Omi nodded. Ran turned to look at Ken. The ninja met his gaze with determination.

"What have we got to lose?" Ken asked.

_Each other._ Ran thought, but didn't voice it. He simply nodded, turning towards Yohji and Omi.

"We will not be separated." he said simply. Omi nodded. Yohji smirked.

"Doubt we could even if we _tried_." he quipped. This time his appraising gaze swept the two of them. "The sex must be _really_ good." He finished, grinning. Omi squeaked beside him, turning a shade paler before growing green. Chaos broke out across the room as Ken tackled a livid Ran to the tatami before he could start a the makings of an epic battle.

"I'm going to murder _him_." Ran growled, thrashing and bucking beneath Ken. The ninja tried very hard to ignore the feeling of Ran's back thrusting up beneath him as he gripped one arm behind the man.

"Ran, calm down! You can't kill him!" Ken growled.

"Whose side are you on Ken? Let me the hell up!" the redhead yelled back. Ken didn't reply. He sent Yohji a glare across the room where Omi had pulled a fan out and was beating the older man over the head with it.

"Can't you wait five minutes Yohji-kun? How're we supposed to convince them to work with us if you're acting like a pervert?"

"Ow, Omi, cut it out! I'm sorry ok? I was just stating the obvious!" Omi's eye brow twitched dangerously and Ran thrashed harder, growling promises of death intermingled with bellows that Ken release him, and whose side was the ninja on anyway?

"If he tries to kill you, I won't stand in his way, you know." the blond youth stated casually. "I'll cheer him on." Yohji rubbed his head, wincing, and shot Omi a wounded look.

"Whatever happened to loyalty!" he whined.

"It has its limits, Yohji-kun; it has its limits."

"Look", Ken grunted, from his place atop the thrashing ronin. "You said Kritker is going to take care of this place, right? Let's go back to the safehouse and have a few drinks. I think we all could use a little sake right now." Omi nodded and Yohji sighed in relief.

"Finally, someone with the right attitude." the playboy quipped. Ken glared at him.

"You two go on first and we'll catch up. I doubt Ran is going to be able to reign in his temper and we don't want any public displays. I'll try and calm him down on the way there." the ninja muttered, glaring daggers at Yohji.

"Don't think _I'm_ gonna be able to keep my temper in check either…" he finished under his breath. Yohji only chuckled.

"Very well then. To the inn, for some much needed and more deserved sake!" he said, bowing with a flourish and then exiting the room. Omi rolled his eyes in a _why me_ gesture, and moved to follow.

"I'd better catch him before he does something entirely stupid." the youth said exasperatedly. Ken nodded. Ran had stopped thrashing and was panting beneath him.

"Will you two be ok?" the blond youth asked carefully, standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. I think we need to talk it over. I'm sure there will be plenty of Kritker agents around in case something goes amiss." the ninja replied easily, and edge to his gaze. Omi flushed, embarrassed and looked away. _It's only a precaution_, he reminded himself. Licking his lips, he swallowed heavily and nodded. "Un." But Ken's smile was genuine and sunny.

"Then stop worrying. We'll be fine." and Omi was relived to hear the lack of accusation in that voice. Nodding and smiling in return, he raised his head in a wave.

"Ok. The agents should be along soon to clean-up so don't take too much longer here, ok?" Ken nodded, shuddering, and cast a brief glance over his shoulder.

"Just get that idiot Kudo out of my hair and we'll be right behind you." Ran growled. "And Ken, get the hell off me. You're heavy."

Ken pouted and crossed his arms, glaring at the top of Ran's head.

"That's not a very nice thing to say." the ninja muttered. Ran snorted, and Omi backed out of the room hastily, closing the door behind him. He did _not_ want to hang around for another argument to ensue. With a sigh, the youth took himself off to find Yohji.

OOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOO

Ken sighed once Omi was gone and lifted himself off of Ran, forcing himself to keep his mind blank. The feeling of Ran's backside thrashing beneath him had been quite nice, and Ken was thankful he'd controlled the reaction thus-far. The brief reminder of the corpse behind him had taken care of the rest. No sooner had he sank to the tatami beside where Ran had lain than the ronin was hauling him up into another embrace, one hand stroking his hair gently.

"You gonna be ok?" he asked softly. Ken nodded against Ran's chest.

"Yeah. Just give me a while, ok?" he replied.

"Take all the time you need. Just remember I'm here." Ran's deep voice was soothing to Ken's agitated nerves. He nodded again.

"I'm sorry I put you through that. I was hoping to keep everything less complicated by just killing Kase in a surprise attack. I didn't want anyone to get hurt." Ran's grip tightened.

"I'll forgive you if you don't remind me about it anymore." he replied tersely. Ken chuckled sadly.

"Deal." he replied softly. He frowned suddenly, wondering why Ran's haori felt damp. Pulling his head back he groaned as he caught sight of a thick black stain from their earlier embrace. Ran' soft chuckle had him turning to stare up at the ronin.

"Mmm?" he inquired. Ran traced pale fingers along Ken's cheek tenderly.

"You've got a big black spot on your face now." the redhead replied mirthfully. Ken scowled.

"Damn it." he muttered. "Now I'm gonna look like an ass the whole way back." Ran leaned in close, guiding them towards the doorway.

"Not at all…" the redhead murmured softly, lipping a bit of Ken's disheveled brown locks. He moved down to tongue behind Ken's ear, effectively distracting the ninja from their surroundings and luring him out the door. They clumsily slid into their shoes and opened the door.

"How's that?" Ken asked, dazed and tilting his head slightly with a sigh. Ran steered them out and slammed the door shut behind them with finality.

"I think it looks sexy." the ronin mumbled, shoving the brunet against the opposite wall forcefully and nudging Ken's lips apart with his own before sliding his tongue inside and exploring that slick, hot mouth. Ken moaned into the kiss, effectively distracted, and Ran pulled away after a moment with a soft _'smak_'

"Gods, you find the weirdest things to be a turn-on…" the brunet muttered, turning his head into Ran's lips and thrusting his hips against the ronin's.

"Everything about you is a turn-on." Ran growled softly, pinning Ken's hips to the wall with his own. Ken moaned again and pressed his hips into Ran's, seeking to create a delicious friction. He wasn't disappointed, and they both moaned this time.

"…'at so?" the ninja managed breathily.

"Hn." was the redhead's reply. After a moment longer, Ran pulled away. "Let's go." When Ken looked ready to protest, the redhead shot him a look smoldering with promise. "The things I'm going to do to you require a bit more privacy…" the ronin trailed off, reinforcing the promise with a nip along the brunet's earlobe. Ken sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"'Kay…" he conceded finally. Ran forced himself to move away with a great draw of willpower, and Ken was soon walking beside him.

"I'm still covered in ink. And blood." the ninja mumbled self-consciously.

"Good thing you're wearing dark colors then." Ran replied casually as they walked out of the izakaya and into the light of early-evening. "Wish I could say the same for me." he finished wryly. Ken chuckled, shaking his head.

As the chill December air hit his face, Ran felt a wave of gratitude.

Gratitude that Ken was alive.

That they had found each other.

And that they weren't going to be alone, anymore.

Ran's soft smile met Ken's earsplitting grin as they walked off into the setting sun.

Together.

OOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOO

Ok, so not the end, but maybe a bit longer on the next update, as I have to decide where things are going next.

Man, the 100 review mark is coming up, and I want to do a little something special for all you guys. I know I've already got the Ken recovery side story on my 'to do' list, as well as a Saiyuki crossover (full of dry humor….), but is there anything perhaps shorter that I could do for the reviewers? Any short scenes or situations someone would like to see written? Let me know, I wanna do something special for the 100 mark!

Thanks again, your reviews, as always, are wonderful, and make me blush, and I read them like five times every time I write the next chapter….they really do inspire me.

And off I go!

Ja na!

OOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOOoooOO


	28. Finding Buddha in the Smallest Places

Ok, so whew! Here's a quickie update. Just a little ditty on Weiss getting started, and maybe to tie up a few loose ends.

A note on the short haiku : I chose this haiku because of the symbology involved. Buddha, known as 'The Compassionate One', is seen as all-loving and all-forgiving, and Ran and Ken get a little much-needed compassion from a very unexpected place in this chapter.

The title of this chapter is for Alliey!

Enjoy!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_The fish, when slit open,_

_Reveals a Buddha is has eaten."_

_--Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 13B**_

_Persia_ was a tall, stern looking man, a steel grey beginning to pepper the thick black hair atop his head. His presence seemed to demand and hold all attention to it effortlessly; commanding the respect an emperor deserved regality in his bearing. It made Ran nervous and he tried hard not to fidget beneath the steely gaze. The warmth in the depths of those eyes did little to hamper their severity. Neither did the alarmingly bright backlighting of the shoji behind the man in the dim, otherwise unlit room. Ran tried hard not to squint and cast a sideways glance at Ken.

The ninja had his head lowered to the floor, forehead resting against his two hands which lay palm down against the tatami in a 'V' shape. He had not moved from that position since he had entered, and it was beginning to annoy the ronin. The man before them may have been the emperor, but he was no longer in power. Ken was behaving as if the man were some sort of God or holy figure. The redhead wondered how Ken had been able to hold that position for the past ten minutes. He was almost certain the human body shouldn't be folded that compactly for so long.

Sliding his glance back towards the 'emperor', Ran studied him a bit further from beneath his red fringe. It had escaped the bindings of his hair earlier to fall in his face, and Ran was now grateful for the privacy it awarded him. The emperor seemed to be studying them both rather intently, as if reaching some sort of conclusion. A silly thought struck the red-head, and Ran wondered if Ken was still on the floor like that because he had fallen asleep. The ronin held in a laugh.

The energy in the room seemed to tense suddenly, ready to break into sound, and Ran waited, breath stilled, as the emperor finally readied himself to speak. Steel softened significantly as it fell upon the prone form of the ninja, and Ran wondered at it.

"Hidaka, Ken." Ken flinched very slightly and sat slowly, still keeping his head bowed and his eyes averted. Misery had set itself into his features, making the lines of his face seem harsher than they had right to be for a man of Ken's nineteen years. Ran felt his own mouth fall into a frown as he felt the same old defensive feeling well to life within. If it was one thing Ran hated, it was authority. Life had taught him time and again that authority figures tended to abuse their powers with little care for the consequences.

"Hidaka-sama. Raise your eyes. Look at me." the emperor commanded softly. The startled look on Ken's face mirrored Ran's own inner feelings. What was this man playing at? When Ken's slowly moving gaze finally settled hesitantly on the steel one before his own, the emperor's face seemed to soften significantly. Without saying another word, the emperor bowed from the waist, dipping his head, in respectful acknowledgement. Ken's eyes widened at the gesture, making him look like a frightened rabbit. Not that Ran could blame him. It wasn't everyday the emperor called one 'sama' and then bowed so respectfully.

"This Persia thanks this Hidaka-sama for faithful and loyal service to this honorable family for many generations. This honorable one extends his sincerest regrets over the recent and tragic events that have led to the fall of the Kouichirou clan. Truly, I would never have wished such a fate on anyone."

The room hovered in a shocked stillness once the deep, booming voice had quieted. Ken's jaw was working slowly, mouth opening and closing in a way that made him look like the catch of the day at a sushi bar. The humor of the image was utterly ruined by the suspicious glistening gathering in the corner of those wide brown eyes. Ken looked as if he did not know what to do with himself. Ran could not blame him at all, and made a stern effort to pull his jaw off the tatami.

Omi suddenly materialized beside Ken, and put a comforting hand on the ninja's shoulder. They had learned, over sake the other day, that the blond youth was one of the emperor's sons. Unperturbed by the affect he was having on his audience, the emperor continued in a grave voice.

"This venerable one does hear-by formally recognize the honorable Hidaka-sama as heir to the Kouichirou Clan, and the great service the Kouichirou clan has given tirelessly to help this family's cause. A request of any kind shall be asked and granted, and this honorable one will do everything in his power to grant it." Ken made a choked sound, and when Ran swung his head around to look, Ken had the back of one hand pressed against his mouth. The eyes were still wide with shock, but Omi gave Ken's shoulder another squeeze, and Ken seemed to pull himself together, his expression forming itself into one of hardly containable joy and disbelief. And Ran suddenly found a new and deep respect for the man before him. Someone with authority was doing something _right_, and it soothed a part of the ronin that he hadn't realized was aching. Gods, what he would have given, to have heard that from the _Damiyo_ so long ago….

Ken bowed low to the floor, kow-towing for several moments before bringing himself up quickly and wiping roughly at one or two stray tears that had made their way down his face. Looking the emperor squarely and proudly in the face, Ken took a deep breath, body suddenly regal and elegant, commanding respect and attention in it's own right. If Ran had ever had trouble envisioning Ken as a high-ranking ninja before, he had no such trouble now.

"My lord, this humble one seeks only a proper burial for his kinsmen and clan, as is due to them respectfully." the emperor nodded regally, and just like that, the deal was done.

"And so shall this request be granted. But this honorable one feels that Hidaka-sama has earned a greater boon with his loyalty and service, especially in the name of his clan. Are you certain there is nothing else you seek?" Ken smiled sadly and shook his head.

"My lord, I have all that I will ever need. This humble one thanks you for your generosity and awaits your further commands." So saying, Ken bowed low once more, and when he sat up, his head remained formally bowed. However, his shoulders seemed to no longer collapse against themselves beneath the weight; they remained proudly set back, pride and relief evident in the way the ninja held himself straight. Ran had never felt such a mix of relief and gratitude in a very long time. Not since his master had gifted him with his first Daiso. Ran smiled softly at Ken, although he was sure the ninja couldn't see it.

"Fujimiya-sama." Ran's whole body jerked at the direct and formal address of his name. For the Gods' sake, he was a _ronin_. No one had addressed him that formally in his life; even when he'd been a samurai's son. The red-head turned startled violet eyes on to the stern figure before him.

"Word has traveled to this honorable one's ears of the tragic fall of the Fujimiya family." Ran felt his heart stop. What the hell was _this_ about! What did his family have to do with any of this? Ran felt his body tense nervously. He felt sick inside as he forced memories of Aya-chan to stay down. Gods, he worked so hard to repress it, what did this man think he was doing!

"Although perhaps it will do no good, this honorable one extends his deepest regrets that the power of a Daimyo has been used so carelessly. This honorable one formally recognizes the innocence of Lord Fujimiya and his family, and regrets the needless shame that has tainted that family name. In the presence of this honorable one, the name Fujimiya will be thought of only in honor and respect."

Ran forgot to breathe. His heart seemed frozen before it began beating painfully against his ribs. Just like that….just…All this time, all those years…and he….and what was he supposed to do now? The emperor couldn't change the law, but a public recognition? Of his family? By the emperor? Was he dreaming? When his vision cleared, Ran realized he'd been staring at the tatami and brought his gaze back up to the emperor's face. It was now he who was in Ken's former state of agitation. He couldn't seem to find his voice.

"This honorable one seeks to right the corruption that has so wrongly caused such suffering to two so honorable men." Ken and Ran both returned the emperor's firm gaze with their own, grave, expressions.

"You have been called upon to aid in this cause. We ask only for your loyalty and faith in this organization and its members. Once you have accepted these terms, you may not turn back on this vow. To do so will mark you as an enemy of Kritiker and all of its allies. Is this understood?" Manx, whom had been sitting quietly to the side, now spoke firmly, her gaze as hard as the emperor's, pinned on the two before her. There would be no betrayal, and no deception here.

Ken and Ran exchanged glances before Ken turned to face both Manx and the emperor. Straightening to his full height, shoulders back, legs tucked beneath him in perfect formation, Ken met their eyes and spoke firmly and confidently.

"This Hidaka, Ken accepts the terms laid before him, and pledges unwavering faith and loyalty to Kritiker, and all of its allies. This humble one will serve Lord Persia as long as the honorable Persia has need of him." Ken sealed his vow with a low bow, touching his forehead to the back of his hands before straightening once more, head bowed. Manx nodded formally, accepting the vow.

"Very well. Kritiker accepts this vow and extends a humble gratitude towards Hidaka-sama for the pledge of his services." All eyes turned expectantly towards Ran. The room tensed, as if waiting for Ran's reaction to the demands and the vow of his comrade. Head bowed, Ran silently slid his katana, sheath and all, out from his hakama and placed it horizontally on the floor in front of him with two hands. Bowing once, formally, Ran straightened, and turned a grave gaze onto Manx and Persia.

"This Fujimiya, Ran accepts the terms and conditions laid out before him, and pledges his loyalty and his sword to the honorable Persia, and Kritiker. It is with pride and honor this Fujimiya Ran gives this vow." Persia's face softened slightly, touched by the gesture of a ronin pledging his blade with the respect and dignity of a samurai lord to the enemy of the shogunate.

"Very well." Manx nodded, formally accepting Ran's pledge. "Kritiker accepts this vow and extends humble gratitude towards Fujimiya-sama for the pledge of his services.

The tension in the room suddenly dissipated, and Ran watched, startled, as the occupants who had seemed so formal only moments ago now relaxed, smiling to various degrees. Ken still looked emotionally shook-up and Ran didn't think he was doing much better.

"Good. On to better things." Persia stated with a rumbling chuckle, reaching for a bottle of expensive-looking sake on the table. "Manx, if you would be so kind…?" he asked, handing the young woman the bottle. Manx smiled at him and rose, crossing to the table, where she knelt and began pouring drinks.

"Let us toast to this new partnership, and to the success of Weiss." The emperor boomed. When four sets of confused eyes fell upon him, he chuckled. "The four of you seemed to have done so well together I have decided to keep you together in a sub-organization I have named _Weiss_." he decreed. Omi beamed, Ken grinned, Yohji smirked, and Ran frowned.

"You didn't say I was going to be working with _Kudo_." he grumbled. Persia reached before him and picked Ran's katana up respectfully in two hands, handing it over to the ronin with a small bow.

"Please restore your sword to its rightful place. And I remind you a vow is a vow, although I can understand your agitation." He chuckled. Ran scowled.

"You don't know the half of it." he muttered under his breath. It was not low enough for Yohji to miss, however, and the lanky man put a fist over his heart, swaying backwards dangerously.

"You wound me! All of you! What have I ever done to engender such ill will?" he moaned, melodramatically. Omi chuckled and reached into his sleeve, pulling out his fan and giving Yohji a friendly tap on the head with it.

"Yohji, save it. And I suggest you get some better acting skills." The youth chuckled. Yohji looked indignant.

"Hah! I happen to be one of the best around, thank you very much! I could fool a priest if I wanted to!" although he was tempted to argue, Omi held back. It was not a lie, after all, Yohji _had_ spent nearly three years in Takatori's confidence without anyone being the wiser. So instead, the youth rolled his eyes.

"Then perhaps when you're trying to convince us, you'll dig those legendary skills up next time?" he remarked sarcastically.

"Har har." Yohji dead-panned thanking Manx and accepting a shot of sake graciously. When everyone had received their glass, Perisa raised his shot, gesturing towards all of them.

"To success and long life. Kampai!" he said jovially.

"Kampai!" echoed around the room and everyone threw back their shots at once. When he had finished, Ran's gaze sought Ken's. Warm brown eyes met his own gaze steadily and Ran felt comfort spread in his gut. If he had to work with anyone, although he would never admit it, Ran felt Yohji and Omi were a fine pair indeed. And he couldn't have asked for more than Ken by his side.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ok, so that's that. Next chapter, Weiss goes to bury Ken's clan. (No, they haven't been buried yet, and YES, I know that's kinda gross, but somebody had to do it, and it'll be important for bonding. Should be a fun chapter to write. :squelch: Bet it'll be even more fun to read. :squelches again:

Ja na!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	29. Predator's Game

Ok, another chapter up! Whew, this thing is turning into an epic story! Damn! FYI, I have started writing the Saiyuki parody and the modern-day Ran/Ken (Weiss), so I may decide to post those soon too. Can't decide though. Admittedly, I'm afraid of starting another epic. I _am_ going home in August you know…Can't be a slave to writing forever…

On with the story. No burial this time, sorry, but a quickie (and I do mean _quickie_) Schwartz update. Can't forget about my favorite, oh so sexy bad guys…;)

(:Squeeee: oh my God I LOVE this poem…)

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

_III_

"_Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair."_

_Alfred Noyes (The Highwayman)_

_**Edo, Chapter 14**_

Crawford watched Schuldig pace the floor with tight, controlled steps, looking much like an angry, caged tiger. He had undone the laces on this shirt, exposing a healthy bit of a pale, perfect chest, and was wearing only his tight, black-fitting breeches. His leather riding gloves were still on his hands, and he ran one of them through his wildly disheveled hair. Whirling suddenly, the German pinned his irate glare on Crawford's reposing form, emeralds darkened to a pine-green.

"How the hell can you just sit there like that? That bloody, stupid idiot didn't even wait long enough to give them decent information about Takatori! I want him dead _now_! You should have let me follow him you bloody bastard!" he cursed, rather fluidly, in English. He wanted to be sure that Crawford understood the full weight of his anger. Crawford 'tsked', shaking his head slowly and fixing the redhead with a serpent's smile.

"That's how it was _supposed_ to happen. Patience Schuldig. Trust me, Kase has more than set things in motion. Takatori will be dead within the next two months." the dark-haired Brit replied evenly, every inch the unruffled gentleman. There wasn't a wrinkle to be seen on his usual, immaculate, puritan-style suit. Schuldig scoffed, but his anger seemed to have abated slightly.

"And how, pray-tell, do you know _that_?" he snorted, flopping down gracelessly on the settee next to Crawford.

"Let's just say a little bird told me. Or rather, it was what he _didn't_ tell me." the dark-haired man replied. Schuldig raised an eyebrow, anger gone in the face of intrigue.

"Oh? And what did this little bird _not_ say? Do tell." he grinned leaning into Crawford's personal space with a seductive motion that was so practiced it had become unconscious. Coupled with the grin on the German's face, the picture he presented was not entirely unappealing to Crawford. It was no wonder the women had fallen to the German man's dynamic charm.

"Tsk. So impatient, Mastermind. Tell me, who has suddenly 'disappeared' from Takatori's sights?" the precognitive prompted. Schuldig frowned thoughtfully, enjoying the light, intellectual game.

"Hmm….aside from Kase?" the German gave it more thought. "Well, I haven't seen that dog Kudo's face around here for some days now. Why?"

"Exactly. And _who_ does Kudo work for?" Schuldig grinned, understanding dawning.

"So is _that_ how the game is played? Very well. You win this round, _heir_ leader. I bow to your superior plotting skills. Although I would've very much liked to have done that arrogant ass in myself." the German finished, scowling. Despite Schuldig's dislike of Kudo, _Kase_ had by far been worse, and if it was anything the German hated, it was an arrogant man that he was forced to suck-up to. Kudo, at least, had been interesting to watch. His subsequent betrayal of Takatori when the Daimyo was obviously so arrogantly attached to and trusting of the spy was a huge bonus in Kudo's favor. But Kase, Schuldig had wanted to kill himself. In as humiliating a manner he could manage. The ex-ninja's stupidity _demanded_ it.

"Hn. Trust me. There was a very appropriate ending to his story." Crawford informed slyly, earning a wink of approval from his comrade.

"Well, then I suppose that'll have to satisfy until later. I can hardly _wait_ for the fun to start. In the mean time, I'm going to find an outlet for my…_frustration_…" the red head trailed off suggestively. Schuldig had made a game of seducing as many innocent Japanese women as his stamina would allow, forming a habit of having them come seeking him for weeks afterwards. The looks the males in the compound sent him told him that he'd frustrated many a soldier's bed since he'd been in residence, and the German could not help but feel that their over-inflated egos could _use_ a taking-down. He did so enjoy sport. Crawford raised a cool eyebrow in his direction.

"Think you'll find anyone left to ply your trade on tonight Mastermind? I was sure you'd exhausted your reserves." the dark-haired man bantered. Schuldig threw him a saucy smile.

"I guess it'll be more of a challenge then, won't it? Perhaps I'll start moving in on the males…" he trailed off suggestively.

"Oh? What makes you think they'd accept your attentions?" Crawford replied easily, raising the other eyebrow. Schuldig tapped one elegant, be-gloved and be-ringed finger against his temple playfully, the ruby on his forefinger glinting blood in the lantern-light.

"You forget, my friend, I have an advantage, so to speak."

"I wonder, how well you would do, if you did not have that advantage…" Crawford had risen now, and came to stand before Schuldig, his own pose seductively challenging in its own, upright manner. Schuldig grinned like a predatory cat, leaning once more into Crawford's personal space for the second time that evening. The attention was not entirely unwelcome.

"Oh? Are you suggesting that I would be less potent without my _advantage_?" he murmured, running his tongue along his lower lip. Crawford grinned coldly.

"Perhaps." he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. Schuldig leaned back momentarily.

"Very well then. Challenge issued and accepted." the German grinned, and before Crawford could even respond, Schuldig leapt forward to begin the attack.

Later, the precognitive would remind himself never to underestimate Schuldig again.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Waahhh! Another short installment, just to remind everyone that Schwartz is still around and pulling strings like the brilliant puppet masters they are. Honestly, did Esstet really think they could put together four people with gifts and no morals like that and _not_ lose control of them? Dumb dumb dumb. Anyway, next chapter, as promised, angst and sap as Weiss takes off to bury Ken's hideously-neglected clan. Not fun, since it's been a month. (Oh ewww…..) But nobody else took the initiative. :shrug:

Ah! And by the by, this is _not_ to say that Schuldig and Crawford have some kind of romance going. I tried to make it so that the reader could understand they're more interested in the intellectual challenge and sport they can get from each other. Of course, bed sport and seduction being a part of that. Not entirely unheard of I don't think…

Ta for now!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	30. Unearthing the Dead

Okay, it's time for another full-length installment! Yay!

Warnings: this chapter is kind of graphic. No reading if you have a weak stomach. Lots of angst, light on the humor. It was rather hard to write, so if it comes across badly, my apologies…

Cultural notes : Yes! They're back, if only briefly! Here they are!

"_Ojamashimasu!"_ – The traditional greeting of guest when entering the hosts' house. It literally means (I'm about to be a pest!). Figuratively, it means 'Please excuse my being a bother.' Or some such thing like that. It's rather rude _not_ to say it.

_Genkan_ – the traditional Japanese entry way; in modern times, this consists of a concrete floor in front of any and every doorway, where guests (or the people who live there regularly) remove their shoes. Shoes do NOT go past the genkan, unless they're indoor ones, and if one is IN the genkan, one wears SHOES. After removing the shoes, the bare or socked, tabied, etc. foot then steps up a slightly steep step into a front-hall like area, which is usually composed of wood-flooring. In a more traditional setting, I think the concrete would actually be packed dirt. The wood floor is the same. Tatami was only in rooms, and certainly NOT in any kitchens, bathrooms, or bathing-rooms.

_Nihonshuu_ – what the Japanese call sake nowadays, and perhaps way back when too. What most people may not know is that _sake_ ( With an 'e' NOT _saki_**—** I HATE it when people call it saki. That's so….anyways…) actually means _all_ alcohol, and not just rice-wine, which is referred to as Nihon-shuu. : )

Okay, lesson over, onto the gore…I mean…story…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_A sorrowful destiny—_

_Man turns into a bamboo shoot_

_At his inevitable end."_

_Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 14B**_

**_Unearthing the Dead_**

It was a cold, clear December morning, the sky an endless azure dotted with the occasional wispy, insubstantial cirrus; testament to the biting cold hovering in the air. A good five inches of snow, uncharacteristically early for the season, blanketed everything just enough to make it appear deceptively peaceful.

It was beautiful.

Shovel slung over one shoulder, Ken paused before the former entrance to his village, snow creaking softly beneath his stilted geta as he surveyed the charred, wooden stumps of the gate, now frosted to a pale brown, the thin layer of ice making black char look like a night sky full of stars. His breath huffed out in large white clouds that evaporated quickly into the thin air. Not a sound could be heard, save the soft voices and footsteps of his companions some distance behind him. Ken had wanted to move ahead; he'd wanted some time alone first, and he was grateful that his newly-formed partnership had allowed him that service.

Stooping slightly, the brunet reached down, red fingertips digging through white fluff, brushing the light, icy stuff aside thoughtlessly as his hands and eyes searched for the plaque he knew was buried somewhere beneath the serene blanket.

Numb skin felt the etched and hammered surface of the iron plaque like a blind-man reading for the first time. The metal was cold; icily so, but Ken paid it no mind. He pulled the plaque up in one hand, smiling with a bitter sadness as he held it up to eye-level.

It was blackened and warped, but still readable, and Ken set it to the side, leaning it on one charred post so that he could find it later.

He already felt frozen, and this had nothing to do with the task he had set himself to undertake. Ken knew they would have to work fast; the temperature was absolutely freezing, yet another uncharacteristic trait this season, and there was no way anyone would be able to stay outside for long. The brunet walked inside the village slowly, stopping short of the first bodies, and set his shovel down tip-first, leaning it against his thigh. Bringing his hands to his mouth, he cupped them, breathing warmth into the already frozen digits, before pawing through his heavy winter haori for the gloves he'd bought in town. He slid them on clumsily, shivering, before turning slowly turning to survey the landscape.

It made him _sick_. Everything was left exactly as it had been. _No one_ had come to bury the dead. Not even the emperor, with his apologies, had seen to it that someone had undertaken the task. Ken supposed he no longer had the power to do so.

Bending to uncover the body nearest him, Ken grimaced and swallowed a wave of bile. Gods, they'd left fresh bodies out for an entire month. The results were less-than appealing. He bit down on his lower lip and forced the tears away. Never in his life had he thought he would be burying the putrid, rotting remains of clan and family alone.

A hand descended onto his shoulder and Ken was so startled that he jumped a mile, a small, high-pitched sound escaping his lips that _might_ have been a squeak. If he were a girl of course.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Thought you heard me coming." Omi's soft, gentle face and empathetic gaze were a slight balm to Ken's soul. He smiled sadly.

"S'ok. Probably would have jumped if you'd have warned me anyways." he replied with a smile. Omi returned his smile.

"It's alright. You've got a lot on your mind. This is horrible. I'm disgusted no one came to help." the youth finished, the corners of his smile tugging downwards in disapproval. Ken shrugged in an attempt to be non-chalant.

"Can't really expect them to, I guess. Maybe they were scared." he reasoned softly. Om's frown deepened.

"That isn't an excuse. I'm going to ask Persia why nothing was done. I know we've been short on agents, but this is inexcusable, and I'm sorry Ken." Ken merely shrugged, but inwardly he wanted to hug Omi.

"Thanks, Omi. I appreciate the sentiment. And the support. You didn't have to come all the way out here with me. Especially since it's so cold." Omi looked scandalized.

"Ken-kun! Of _course_ I came with you! I would never let you face something like this by yourself." the youth admonished. "And neither would Ran-kun, or Yohji-kun for that matter. He hasn't even complained the whole trip. We _want_ to be here." the blond assured him. Ken nodded, fighting to keep from tearing again. How was it that he'd managed to have such wonderful luck after everything that had happened? The ninja was sure he didn't deserve any of it.

"Now, how do you want to do this? Is there any place you want to prepare for the graves, or shall we simply bury them where they lay? I want to do this however you feel is most appropriate. And I don't want any of the men to screw it up." Omi's voice was gentle yet firm and Ken smiled sadly.

" I think it would be best to dig up the main road and make a mass grave. It's cold and there's a lot to do here. We can put an individual marker at the head of each body. I want everyone buried together, but I want them all spaced-out equally. I don't want _any_ stacking or over-lapping. It's dishonorable, and I'll personally castrate any man who does it." The ninja knew that Omi already understood what was honorable, and what was dishonorable, but the order was given specifically for the laborers that they had brought to help, courtesy of Persia. Ken didn't trust any of them. "And I want to see the entire grave before we start filling it in, just to be sure." Omi nodded, a firm, determined look on his face. It felt strange giving the youth orders, even though he was younger than Ken.

"I'll go tell the men. Don't worry about any of it. Do what you need to do, ok?" the blond replied, turning and jogging back towards the sound of Ran and Yohji conversing quietly and the further sound of several men walking idly through the forest and griping about the cold. Ken turned, and slowly headed up the main road, intent on finding the first person he wanted to tend to himself. He'd wanted to give each person their own, honored burial, but he didn't have the time or energy to do it any longer. It was cold and the corpses were frozen and half rotted. There wasn't any more time to waste.

It was some time later and a great-deal farther into the village than he'd anticipated that Ken finally found Ryuuta. Wave after wave of regret slammed into him hard; regret that he hadn't had the time nor the patience to bury the youth. He'd wasted that time; that precious time, in pursuit of Kase. And what had that been worth? Ken clenched a fist in silent fury, bowing his head. He didn't know _who_ he was angrier with; Kase for the betrayal in the first place, or himself for being the gullible weakling that he was. He'd been willingly duped, and it had cost him heavily. It had cost everyone heavily.

"Ken."

The sound of his name; so softly spoken in that deep baritone, had the power to silence his mind like nothing else in his world. Warm, strong arms enveloped him in a close embrace from behind and Ken choked, realizing that there were tears coursing down his cheeks. They felt like small glaciers in the cold, slowly tracking their way to his neck, leaving icy rivers of sensation in their wake.

"Who is it?" Ran asked softly, an elegant, pale hand sliding up and gripping one shoulder supportively over his chest.

"Ryuuta-kun." Ken's response was so silent the ronin nearly missed it, and he held Ken tighter.

"Well then let's put him to rest." the redhead murmured softly. Ken nodded. The warmth at his back retreated and Ken fought the urge to hug himself. He was going to be strong. Ran walked carefully around the other side of the body, opposite Ken and knelt down on one knee, gently brushing the snow from Ryuuta's long-cold corpse. He did not cringe or flinch. He did not grimace or withdraw. His touch was as gentle as that of a mother with her child, as reverent as a man before a dead hero, and Ken was so grateful for the show of respect he nearly began weeping a-new. Carefully, he knelt down across from Ran and pulled a length of linen from his sleeve. As Ran carefully removed the snow from the corpse, Ken laid the shroud out next to the body, straightening every wrinkle, removing his gloves in frustration as they made him fumble with the white cloth. It was a slightly more expensive material than the rest that they had brought, and Ken had bought it specifically for this purpose.

At length, the body was cleared of snow and the cloth made ready. Ken looked up at Ran.

"You don't have to touch him if you don't want. I can do this alone." he said evenly, already sliding his arms beneath the body slowly. Ran leaned across the body, putting a hand on the ninja's shoulder.

"Ken. I want to do this. Let me help. Please." the brunet smiled sadly, but his gaze was full of adoration.

"Okay. Let's get him on to the shroud." the ninja relented. Ran nodded and moved towards the feet of the corpse, gently sliding his hands beneath where the knees had once been. For Ken's sake, he forced himself not to think about what he was touching. He knew that Ryuuta had been important and beloved by Ken, and Ran wanted to offer as much support as he could. Together, they hefted the body slowly, a task made somewhat easier by the effects of a cold December and rigor-mortis. Once they had lain it in the center of the shroud, they each took an end of the material and reverently folded it over the corpse. It took a great assertion of will for Ran to not grimace and wipe his hands on his hakama. Instead he remained stoic. The man across from him looked distant. Ken smiled sadly.

"Thanks. Will you help me move him? I don't want to bury him here." the brunet murmured. Ran nodded, and together they each took their respective end of the shroud carrying it slowly across frozen and hazardous terrain, Ken leading the way. Finally they approached what looked to Ran to be a pile of rubble similar to all the other piles of rubble. Carefully, they set the body down in front of it.

"I wanna bury him with his family." the ninja muttered. Ran nodded, feeling something inside of him tug sharply.

"I'll go get the shovel." he said simply.

"Thanks." the ninja nodded, turning towards what must have once been a house. As Ran took off at a brisk trot, in search of their shovels, he decided he couldn't imagine this kind of pain. To him, it looked like a lot of dead bodies, already half-rotted, amidst the remains of what appeared to be several large bonfires.

What Ken saw was the remains of a life filled with familiar faces and happy memories utterly destroyed. Just the previous encounter had been enough to slam home the fact that to the brunet, these people were people he'd known, possibly loved. He could identify most of the bodies and the buildings. Could still navigate his way as if nothing had changed. In the ninja's mind's eye, he could quite probably still see the village as it was; it's whole, neat streets, lined with huts or houses, the cooking fires, the animals, the children, everything, just as it was. Ran couldn't imagine the pain Ken was experiencing. He located their shovels quickly and hurried off, not wanting to leave the ninja alone in his grief.

When he arrived back where had left Ken, grateful for not getting lost, the ninja was standing in what had been presumably the center of the house, digging with bare, ungloved fingers at the wreckage. Ran set the shovels aside, moving towards the brunet slowly.

"Ken?" the young man jumped.

"Ah! Ran. You scared me. I'm just looking for the rest of his family." Ran nodded solemnly, expression softening, as he moved to Ken's side.

"We'll look together." he said softly. Ken nodded, wiping at his face with the back of his hand, and giving Ran a sad, grateful smile.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yohji wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his wool-covered hand. Despite the frozen air, the hard labor of digging, lifting, and moving, was hard work, and enough to get anyone's blood warming. Next to him, Omi was reverently wrapping another faceless, nameless, soulless body in a shroud and preparing it to be lowered into the mass-grave that was only partially finished. It was rough-going, digging in December, and they'd had to start several fires, melting mass amounts of snow in heavy cast-iron pots to a boiling point, before dumping it along the packed dirt that had once served as the main road. The dirt had had to be dug away carefully, layer by layer, not including the bodies they'd had to watch out for, before they had finally dug deep enough for a grave. They had caught-on early into their work that location and removal of bodies _before_ dumping the boiling water was rather essential. The stench and revival of rotting flesh had _not_ been pleasant.

They had decided also to only dig as much of the grave as needed, rather than trying to estimate the amount of space needed, to save both time and unnecessary labor. They had made their way through a good portion of the main drag by afternoon, including a brief break for lunch (not that anyone had had much of an appetite) and there was still no sign of Ken or Ran. The two had taken off earlier in the day, and Yohji hadn't seen hide nor hair of them since. With a slightly agitated sigh, Yohji turned to the youth beside him, who was now helping to oversea another batch of bodies lowered into the grave. Yohji paused briefly to thank whatever deities that were up there that Ken's village had been a small one. They would likely finish before dark. Then they would also likely have to deal with a depressed, mopey Ken; not that Yohji could blame him.

"Naa, Omi. Where do you think Ken's gone? We're gonna have all the bodies in soon I think. We'll need him to tell us if we're missing anything." Omi grunted as he lowered the foot-end of a corpse shroud into the pit and a waiting laborer's arms.

"I don't know Yohji. He's probably off burying his family with Ran. Let's handle one thing at a time ok?" the youth responded, sounding slightly agitated. There was a smudge of…_something_ on his cheek that made Yohji cringe, and he reached forward with his handkerchief to wipe it off. When quizzical blue eyes turned towards him, the lanky playboy smiled and showed the young prince a large, red-black stain on the once pristine-white material.

"Ah!" the youth responded "Thanks Yohji-kun!" Yohji nodded, wondering about Ken's family. It seemed none of them had any real understanding of what it was like to walk into a place that you'd known all your life in…well, like this. The lanky brunet simply couldn't imagine, though not for lack of trying. Despite his brief tiffs with Fujimiya, Yohji hadn't complained once all day about the cold conditions, to say nothing of the grisly labor they had undertaken. He was certain the fact did not go unappreciated by Ken. Once they'd been good and into their umpteenth bottle of expensive _Nihonshuu_ the previous evening, the ninja had declared in a slurred, wobbly manner that he had no intention of forcing any of them to help him undertake the burial of his clan. In fact, the brunet had been quite adamant that he do it alone. Something about atoning for his sins. Ran had promptly smacked him upside the head and grumbled something in a low voice, eyes permanently closed in his drunkenness. Ken had scowled back, the glare lacking focus in the face of alcohol, and rubbed the back of his head, pouting.

It had been then that Omi had stood up, with a rather over dramatic flare, one finger pointed at Ken, and began railing drunkenly about the dynasty's responsibilities, even if it had fallen from power, and blah, blah, blah…Yohji had been happily into his bowls by then, and having drank with Omi before, he was also quite used to the kid's drunken, self-righteous rants as well. The 'conversation', if that's what it could have been called, ended with Omi stating rather firmly and unwaveringly that they'd been officially declared a team, and that meant that they no longer had to do anything alone, and wasn't that so important and precious in a world as dark as this? Never mind he hadn't gotten any input from Ran or Yohji first. Not that they'd have denied it… If Yohji hadn't been drunkenly sentimental he might have been tempted to puke and then find himself a willing waitress to warm his bed for the evening.

Instead, Ken had burst into tears…like a woman…not that Yohji could hold it against the poor guy, and glommed onto Omi, wailing loudly about not deserving something or other and how wonderful everything was. Ran's eyebrow had started to twitch dangerously by then, and Yohji had taken it as a sign of embarrassed agitation. Before things could get much farther out of hand, however, Ken had suddenly seemed to sober-up, and Yohji remembered not expecting such a serious, focused gaze from a man who'd in all likely-hood consumed the same amount of sake equivalent to his body-weight. Ken could seriously pack it away…

The ninja had regarded them all seriously before asking if Omi meant it, that they genuinely _wanted_ to help him. When he'd had their assurances, he promptly lost what composure he'd gained, and he and Omi had hung off of each other babbling for another five minutes until Ran had risen, one eye opening a tiny slit, and grabbed Ken roughly by the collar, dragging him off of Omi and up towards their room. That was the last anyone had heard from either pair until about 10am the next day.

Lost without his partner in grief, Omi had fallen to wailing all over Yohji, which, unlike Ran, the playboy was used to, and did not mind. He'd carefully led Omi to bed, as well as himself, deciding that Ken would appreciate him not bedding another woman until the early morning hours and missing out on the whole burial thing. Especially after such a rousing speech. Yohji had wondered briefly if he were going soft as he stayed with Omi at the youth's request instead, sleeping on the opposite side of the large futon so that the young prince wouldn't feel lonely. Ah, the things he did…

Which shook him back into the present, and into a labor that he did completely willingly. The muddy, steaming soil gave way beneath his shovel as layer after layer disappeared over his shoulder. He dug until he could no longer penetrate earth, and then climbed out from his self-made hole in search of another round of hot water.

As he helped pour it over the current spot of excavation, he couldn't help but find his thoughts straying to Ken's whereabouts once more. If the ninja _was_ digging up his family, Yohji sincerely hopped Ran was with him. If not, he'd personally castrate the red-head himself. Not that Ken would appreciate it, but……

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

A change of mind that Ran had borne patiently had he and Ken dragging five bodies back the way they had came, with the exception that they headed in a direction farther away from the main gates _opposite_ the location of Ryuuta's house. They had buried the bodies beneath some sort of large _sugi_ after much difficulty, and Ran had left Ken to give his prayers and regards in peace, being sure not to stray too far. Ken had been vague as to the reason behind the location, and Ran hadn't pushed, but he found his curiosity piqued as he ambled about slowly, trying to piece Ken's village together in his mind's eye with little success.

He finally found himself standing in front of a small, half-burned out shell of a house, or what he assumed had been a house of some sort. Glancing around casually, Ran found himself analyzing the small structure, if only because it was one of the few buildings still standing and relatively in-tact. Which was a sad thing to say indeed. His eyes finally fell upon a charred, wooden sign on the ground next to what had apparently been the front door, and he stooped to try and make out what it said.

The wood had been blackened considerably, and so Ran allowed his fingers to fit into the groves where the kanji had once been carved, idly reading like a blind man, fingers a cold stark red against the deep jet black. His eyes widened in startled realization a moment later as his fingertips recognized the familiar stokes of 'Hidaka' carved roughly into the wood. Slowly, he looked up, his gaze boring into the shadows beyond the front door. Had _this_ been Ken's family? His house? He'd had a house, and not a hut?

Before the red-head could contemplate anything further, Ran found himself beyond the threshold, standing in the _genkan_ like a nervous child who'd been called in for a lecture on wrong-doings. Cautiously, Ran slipped out of his sandals and stepped up onto the still hard-wood flooring. "_Ojamashimasu_" he murmured quietly, not understanding why, but still feeling the greeting necessary. It was if the spirits that had formerly inhabited the dwelling remained still.

The ronin stalked down the front hall stealthily, peering with great care into the fist room off of his right. It was dark at first, and Ran had to allow his eyes time to adjust, but once they had, the ronin felt sick. He grabbed at his stomach, resisting the urge to heave it's contents all over the charred floor.

:This is graphic. You don't wanna read, I don't blame you. Skip on until you see a small line-break. You have been warned and I will not be blamed.:

The snow had fallen through large holes burned into the roof to coat the floor in the center of the room with a light dusting. But it had not reached the bodies. There were four that Ran could see; an older woman and three smaller bodies that indicated children. That wasn't including the small cradle in one corner of the room.

Despite the decay and charred flesh, it was quite plain to the red-head that the people in this room had been brutally murdered before they'd been set alight. His stomach turned, clenching violently before sinking to his knees.

Ken had had siblings; more than one it looked like. Had he _seen_ this? Whoever had done it had been careful to keep things in-tact enough so that anyone that looked closely could tell what had actually happened. Gods. Ran felt himself choke. He took a hesitant step into the room, sure that the small form on the floor he was avoiding was some sort of large human organ. He didn't bother to try and figure out what it was or who it had belonged to, although his mind blankly informed him that it looked like half a pile of intestines. The other half was wrapped around the neck of the nearest body; The largest one, wearing the remnants of a woman's kimono. It looked as if she had been bound first, hands behind her back, and the ronin looked away quickly, swallowing the bile slamming up into his throat.

Only to find his gaze landing on a small form lying curled on it's side, head perhaps thirty centimeters away. It was tiny, and wore a young boy's kimono. A younger brother, maybe? Ran was disturbed at his relief that the child had likely not suffered the way his mother had.

But he didn't want to see anything else. He couldn't take it. What if Ken had seen this? Had known what had befallen his family? What if Ken had been home when this had happened! The last thought struck panic into his heart and Ran turned blindly to flee from the room, the headless corpse before him growing larger in the dim light, the clothes whole, body fresh, Ken's eyes wide and lifeless in a dismembered face. Oh _Gods_. For a brief instant, Ran remembered seeing Ken's shocked face, the throwing star imbedded in his chest, dark stain seeping out to blacken navy-blue. Ken coughing blood, shuddering, dying.

In his haste to leave, the red-head collided with something hanging from the ceiling that he'd somehow mistaken for dead wood, and as he sat dazedly rubbing his head from where he'd fallen, he realized it was swaying softly. Gaze reluctant and sickened with dread, Ran looked up slowly.

A young girl, perhaps early to mid-teens, hung by a rope from a ceiling beam somehow still intact. Her kimono was torn, and the front of the corpse had been sliced open, the wound widened grossly by the heat and charring of flame. Ran didn't know if she had been dead before or after it had happened.

_Aya-chan_

And he ran. He ran and ran. He didn't know where was going, only that he needed to escape, get away from the pain and the death and the memories. Blinding white registered in his mind momentarily; he was outside again, thank the gods, but he couldn't get far enough away. He continued to run until his feet suddenly slid out from under him, and then he lay in the snow, curled into the fetal position, and fighting with everything he had to keep those memories _away_…

_"Nii-chan…I'm…glad….you made it…ok…" _

_"Shh…Aya-chan! Don't say anything! I'm gonna get help! You have to save your energy! Fight it!" But the girl merely shook her head slowly. _

_"Waited…too long…already…Nii…chan…don't…blame Papa…." Ran shook his own head, tear-drops scattering over Aya's face, her clothes. _

_"Shhh…Aya-chan…don't…please don't…" Aya smiled, teeth bloodied, making her look like a thing of nightmares._

_"Nii-chan…you won't….forget me…right?" Ran choked._

_"Gods…of course not! But I won't have to. You'll be right here. I'll take good care of you Imouto, I **promise**." the ronin sobbed, pulling the slighter, feminine form closer to him and rocking them both. "I'll always keep you safe…**always**…" _

_"I know….you would have…Ran nii….chan…" her voice had grown breathy, laced with pain. She coughed, gurgling, and blood spilled over the corner of one side of her mouth. _

_"Imouto…you can't leave me! Please, don't leave me alone!" he begged. Aya smiled again._

_"Don't…believe….Papa…don't…do…it….Ran…nii-can…live…for me…we…have…no reason…to be….ashamed…I'll be…watching you…" the light in blue eyes began to dim._

_"Aya-chan! Aya-chan? AYA!" once-vibrant eyes opened one last time. _

_"Ran…" the slightest, breathiest whisper. Ran sobbed, rocking more fiercely._

" Ran…"_ more assertive, this time, suddenly his surroundings were paling. The read-head fought to hold on, to keep Aya in his arms, as if his embrace alone would keep her alive…_

OOOoooOOO

"RAN!"

The ronin jumped, eyes suddenly wide opened, taking in reflective white snow and concerned, sorrowful brown eyes.

Ken was in front of him, hands on his shoulders.

"You ok? Gods, you wouldn't answer me…I didn't see find you…and you didn't _answer_ me…I…I thought…just like…" apparently, the ninja wasn't having any more of an easy time than Ran was. Gods, this world was so fucked up. Ran laughed bitterly, roughly wiping the last tears from his eyes and pulling the terrified brunet into a fierce hug.

"Ran…?"

"Gods, we're so fucked…" the ronin muttered bitterly, gasping to catch his breath. Ken didn't seem to share his humor, however, and pulled back briefly, staring at the red-head cautiously.

"What the hell _happened_ to you? I find you lying in the snow, looking like you were…_dead_…" the brunet paused here to shudder "And now you're laughing like a maniac? Ran, what's gotten _into_ you?"

The red-head clutched Ken to him tighter, pushing the ninja's face into his haori.

"Shh…I'm sorry. I just….Just some old ghosts…" he murmured softly.

"Some fucking ghosts." Ken muttered into the fabric, somewhat muffled and silly-sounding. But he didn't pull away. Ran could feel him trembling slightly, and he kissed the top of the brunet's head in an uncharacteristic show of public affection.

"Looks like you've got a few monsters under the bed too. I'm alright, Ken." the brunet snorted.

"Tell that to my fucking heart, and maybe it'll stop pounding." he mumbled in response. Ran sighed heavily. When the hell had it come to this? His dependency on Ken and the ninja's dependency on him were becoming frightening things to behold. But the ronin didn't know any other way to go about their relationship, and he really didn't want to try. Having someone, no, having _Ken_ need him made him feel a sense of comfort he hadn't felt since the day Aya-chan had died.

_"I'll take good care of you… I **promise**…"_

_"I'll always keep you safe…**always**…"_

This time, those were promises the ronin intended to keep. In any way he had to, and by any means. He would not let another loved-one slip through his grasp like water; like blood. This time, he would hold on with everything he had. And that was more than a promise; it was a solemn vow. Resolve steeling amethyst, Ran tightened his arms around Ken's form. He felt a pair of strong arms squeeze his own waist in return, and smiled the tiniest of smiles. Apparently, he wasn't alone in his promises either.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Whew! Part one of this whole burial saga ended. Writing again, and hopefully will pick up speed soon. Hopefully will also have first chapter of one of my new stories to put up on Monday! Keep your fingers crossed minna!

Err…and my apologies for the Ken and Ran abuse in this edition…I can be graphically angsty…hope you all still have your tummies in tact. I figured that I had to stop hinting around it and give the audience an actual idea of what Schwartz (Farferello) _did_…War sucks, even when it's pretending to be something else…

Ja na!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	31. Burying the Dead?

Whoo! Here's another update. Cultural note from last chapter that I forgot:

_Sugi_ – Japanese pine tree. They've got narrow, tall trunks, with the pine bows way at the top. And they are REALLY tall….

Okay, the conclusion to the burial. Enjoy!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

_Above a wintry garden_

_The moon thins to a thread:_

_Insect's singing._

_--Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo, Chapter 15**_

_**Burying the Dead**_

Brown eyes shone with emotion as they watched the swirl of thick grey smoke and brilliant orange flames. The heat coming from the blaze revived his once-numb skin painfully, and Ken winced slightly as the feeling returned to bitterly cold fingers and toes. He felt Ran's arms tighten around him instinctively and drew comfort from the nearness of the other man as they watched the remains of what had once been his house fade away as smoke into the clear blue sky. Ken knew, as he had watched, that he had set his family free, finally, and regretted only taking so long to do so.

His heart still felt heavy, however, as he watched the make-shift pyre, and Ken ached as he was reminded yet again of Kase. Gods, he'd been too late, and it had cost him so much.

"Ken." A deep voice murmured in his ear. "Stop it. You're doing what's right now; isn't that enough? There is nothing that can change the past. It is the past. Live now; neither in the future nor the past. I don't think your family would have wanted you to suffer and torture yourself this way."

"Ran-kun is right, Ken-kun. You did the honorable thing; you've avenged the clan and saw to it they received a proper, respectful burial. You can't do anything else." Omi's voice reassured from somewhere to his left. Ken sighed, nodding.

"Naa, KenKen. You're doing the right thing. Let it go. It's the only way anyone's going to rest in peace." Ken smiled a small smile both at Yohji's wisdom and Ran's reaction to the lanky man's nickname for him.

And everyone was right. He'd buried the dead. It was time to let go. Behind them, the remains of the other huts burned high into the azure sky, releasing the anguished souls trapped within. Ken felt a weight ascend with them into the heavens, not even realizing the weight had been there in the first place. He had Ran to live for; live with. He had Ran and Yohji and Omi. And he had every intention of keeping them. He'd make his clan proud of him. He'd do them justice.

And he was going to hunt down Yanagi, and put his head right in front of Takeshi's grave. As soon as he found both. Frowning, he turned towards the group. They returned his gaze with complete attention, respect, and admiration, and Ken felt a well of affection spring up for them.

"There's someone else, that I have to find." he began. He was met with three puzzled frowns that clearly said 'This isn't over _yet_?' Ken smiled bitterly.

"I don't expect you to come with me…" he began. At two slightly exasperated looks and one dark glower, he pressed on hastily. "There was another traitor—he set up the group of men I was with. I need to find him, and give him what he deserves." Omi and Yohji nodded, Ran crossed his arms and gave a brief nod, his eyes already closed in thought.

"Where was he last seen?" the ronin prompted. Ken frowned.

"In the town that we had our mission in." the brunet tried not to shudder. "We lost him before we even left the village." the red head nodded.

"We'll start there then." Omi and Yohji nodded and the blond youth put a hand to his chin, frowning thoughtfully.

"I'll see if Kritiker can't spare a few agents and get on that immediately. I'm sure Yohji-kun has quite a few resources of his own." the last comment was spoken in a slightly teasing manner, and Yohji balked in mock-indignation.

"Hey! Never mind how many I have or how I found them! I happen to be a very useful person because of it!" he quipped. Omi smiled.

"Not saying you aren't, Yohji-kun." the youth replied. Ken could only nod, speechless, and smile at them. Sensing the overwhelming nature of things, Omi stepped forward and gently put a hand on Ken's shoulder.

"It's alright, Ken-kun. We're a team now, and teams do things together. We're here to support each other." Ken smiled at the youth and nodded.

"Yeah. Just hard to imagine sometimes." he replied. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of his new team going the way of his clan, and steeled his resolve even further. Nothing was going to happen to these people he cared about, absolutely _nothing_. Omi smiled at him sympathetically and they all turned back to watch Ken's house blaze once more. Ran's arms came around his waist and the ronin pulled him into a comfortable embrace.

"And you'll always have me, Ken. Always." the ronin murmured into his ear loud enough for only Ken to hear. The brunet smiled.

"I'm more grateful everyday." he replied, and leaned back into the embrace as his former life scattered on grey smoke into the clear-blue heavens.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yanagi, by any means, was a patient man. It was once said that his patience rivaled that of a spider, forced to wait in the shadows while its prey came to _it_. This case was no exception. His family had worked for generations towards the downfall of the emperor's reign of power. And now that a military-regime had been established, that dream was partially realized; partially.

The elder man exhaled languidly, a puff of strongly tobacco-scented smoke wafting from between dry, cracked lips. He glanced at the two old men and single elderly woman across from him. She returned his casual study with a lethal one of her own, steel in the depths of an otherwise relaxed face.

"Yanagi-san. It seems things are getting out of hand. We have need of your services once more." the ancient voice sounded raspy, like wind through dry leaves, and Yanagi wondered idly when the oh-so-powerful leaders of Esstet were going to kick the bucket.

"You mean to tell me that both Schwartz _and_ Takatori screwed up?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Yanagi. Your family has been in our service for many decades. We still remember people who were dead long before you yourself were born. Many have done great deeds for us. One would think there was an expectation levered upon you to exceed them." The errant ninja raised an eyebrow, the only sign that he was annoyed at being pinned with such a trivial accusation.

"Of course, you know I'll exceed them. Tell me what you wish of me, and it will be done." he murmured, straightening to attention finally.

"Right now, you must watch. We do not trust Takatori. Nor do we trust Schwartz. Kritiker stirs; there is a new force to be reckoned with, and we would see this force properly defended. Within it's ranks is one of the men you were sent to eliminate." the seemingly jovial man to the left replied, raising his bushy eyebrows in slight accusation. Yanagi straightened further.

"Who!" he demanded in a tight voice. He'd rid himself of all of them; he'd been sure of it. The two he hadn't finished hadn't made it past the village.

"Hidaka. He is a fierce fighter, that one. He has joined with several capable companions. They seek to eliminate Takatori. We will allow this. The man grows too cocky. However, we cannot allow this team any closer to Esstet." Yanagi nodded in response, frowning thoughtfully. If anyone'd survive being poisoned and stabbed, it'd be Ken. Despite the anger this news brought, it also brought respect. It seemed he'd been passed-over as jyonin with good reason.

"Kase is dead. See to it that you do not follow in his footsteps. You will doubtless be hunted for your sins. See to it that you do not get caught. Observe this new team, but do not approach them until you have further instructions from us. If you are caught, you will receive no aid. Is this clear?" the stern-looking old man to the other side of the woman demanded. Yanagi nodded. And with a quick bow, he vanished from the room.

"Well. It seems we may have a bit of entertainment before all is finished." the woman murmured calmly, smiling and sipping her tea.

"Yes, I imagine so." one of her companions replied. The three laughed, the sound echoing off cedar-wood and rice-paper, disturbing the silence of a heavy winter-evening with the mis-placed lightness of the sound.

And somewhere in the country, the members of Schwartz and Weiss sneezed simultaneously.

Oh dear. Things were going to get complicated.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ack! Another short installment. Sorry. Wanted to post this before heading out today, because I have classes for the rest of this week which means a busy Aubrey with no time to update or even write for that matter. Hope you liked the bit of a twist.

And yes! Mwahahaha! Bet you forgot about Yanagi. Only one or two people ever mentioned wanting to know what was gonna happen with him. He's a lot more of a bastard than even I thought he was gonna be, but that's ok, as I find I like evil clever bad guys way better. They're so much fun.

A HUMONGOUS THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWRS!

I love you guys, and you keep the fire burning! This story is turning into an epic and I have to confess, I really would not have the energy to finish it if you didn't keep asking for more! I'm working hard on the other stories, and it looks like the Saiyuki parody may be up first. : ) Sa sa! See you later!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	32. A Time to Move Forward

Whoa, holy long-overdue update batman! Chapter 15B is here!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooooOOOoooOOO

"_I can't find_

_That little knife_

_Since the last grafting."_

_--Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Chapter 15B**_

When Ran awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was warm. Pleasantly so. Cautiously sliding a foot out from beneath his futon covers, he realized that the source of warmth was not only the lean body snuggled into his back. Ah, the pleasures of living in the palace. Even though the emperor had no power, he still had respect. And wealth. Figurehead though the man was, he was a well-maintained figure head.

And as Ran and Ken had allied themselves with him, some of that maintenance was lavished on them. They had been allowed a large private set of rooms, which the two of them shared, including a private ofuro. Servants saw to it that the rooms were heated before they came home, and before they woke up. The ofuro was warmed daily after lunch, and maintained until 10 o'clock in the evening.

The room was also tidied, futons folded and put away every morning while Ran and Ken ate breakfast in the main room with Yohji, Omi, Manx (or as Ken knew her, 'Kitada-san'...apparently she had been the geisha that had initially warned the ninja of the betrayal.), and the emperor himself. The day's business and tasks would be discussed, and then after breakfast carried out. True to Persia's word, Ran and Ken usually wound up with similar tasks, if not the same. Although as a result, they also usually wound up with the more difficult tasks, as such tasks required two people.

But not this morning. Yesterday Persia had declared a holiday, and so here they were; Ken sleeping and Ran dozing lazily in the bright sunlight only a winter's morning could give. They were warm, sheltered, clothed, and fed. They were respected and honored. His family name had been cleared, and Ken's clan had been buried the way they had deserved to be.

All in all, Ran couldn't really complain about anything. Not even about having to work with Kudo. Annoying though the man was, he was also highly skilled. As was Omi. Ran couldn't think of two better people to be paired with. They knew what they were doing, and could be trusted to carry out their tasks without screwing up. Something the ronin greatly appreciated.

The only shadow darkening the horizon at the moment was the brunet cuddling into his back. Idly, Ran traced pale fingers along the sun-kissed forearm wrapped around his stomach.

His heart ached for Ken. Despite the closure the funeral had brought, the young man had remained often quiet and withdrawn. He ate little and slept less. Ran hoped they found this Yanagi-person soon. The idea of having to hunt down and kill the last member of his clan was taking it's toll on the young ninja. An entire lifetime spent learning the clan came first only to have that foundation shattered by two corrupt souls was enough to drive anyone to suicide. What the ronin had been unable to understand before, he understood now; after seeing the destruction and devastation of the Kouichirou village first hand, Ran could not imagine how Ken must have felt seeing the destruction immediately after it had been done. And Ken's family–

Ran had not wanted Ken to go into his house. He hadn't wanted Ken to have to deal with those bodies, but Ken had gone in anyways. He had tried to insist upon going in alone, but neither Ran nor Omi would allow it. Yohji, in his good-natured way, had also refused the request. And so the four of them had found all the bodies, and laid them together in the main room, taking extra care to be sure the bodies were all together. Trying to match body-parts and keep them all straight had been horrible, but they had gotten through it. Afterwards, they had set the house up as a pyre, and lit a torch to it. Ken had remained until the last spark was gone, and so, the rest of them had as well.

That night, the ninja had curled so close to Ran the ronin had wondered if the brunet was trying to fuse their bodies together. But he had only held Ken tightly in return. Neither of them had slept.

Afterwards, Kase's ghost seemed to follow Ken around, spurring him farther and farther into his searches for Yanagi. The former son of the Kouichirou clan had had more of an impact on Ken than any of them could have guessed, and the signs hadn't shown until several days later when things had calmed down somewhat and Ken's brain suddenly had idle time to run in circles; namely circles around Kase. The result had pushed Ken farther and farther into a stressful, obsessive search to find the final criminal and put closure on the whole thing. He'd be unable to rest until he did so. And it was painfully obvious even by simply _looking_ at the brunet.

When Ken wasn't busy doing things for the sake of Weiss, he was busy covertly hunting Yanagi down, searching everywhere, using all resources available. The ninja crept into bed late, exhausted every night, and awoke nearly as worn out early the next morning. It was all the red-head could do sometimes just to get the brunet in bed and keep him there. Ran had a suspicion that Persia had ordered a rest day to give Ken some much needed time to relax. The holiday had been an order.

The red-head felt a small smile twist the corners of his mouth as a light snore sounded behind him. Ken smacked his lips and squirmed a bit. Ran tried not to jolt as a cold nose buried itself between his shoulder blades.

With a sigh, the ronin went back to lightly stroking the arm around him, fingers sliding along soft, silken hair and slightly sun-roughened skin. Ken wasn't nearly so broken up about hunting Yanagi as he was broken up about the fact that he still hadn't kept the promise to his clan to extract payment from all traitors.

Although the ninja had been touched to discover that local villagers in the area had buried his men and performed funeral rights for them. The emperor had further erected a small monument in their honor on one side of the road they had died in, one which matched the one erected in the remains of the Kouichirou village, and presented the villagers with a gift for their generosity.

Ken himself had stayed out in an early-January snow storm for two hours to pay his respects to each grave. When he had finally come in, red with the cold and soaked to the skin, Omi had fussed and clucked over him like a mother hen, wrapping him in a blanket and making him drink three cups of hot tea, and eat a large bowl of oden. Ran had sat down beside him comfortably, and rubbed his shoulders to aid him in getting warm. Ken had smiled gratefully and accepted the support in silence. Yohji had come in shortly with a large decanter of warm sake, declaring loudly that nothing warmed a person's blood like fine, hot Nihonshuu, and then proceeded to lighten the evening with comical jokes and stories, some at Omi's expense, which the youth took good-naturedly. Ran could see the gratitude in Ken's face growing deeper and deeper everyday. The ninja was becoming attached to Omi and Yohj, and the red-head could already see how the other two had grown attached to Ken as well.

The ronin knew they would make it though this, but he was worried that Yanagi would never be found. If he was a skilled a ninja as Ken made him out to be, coupled with the experience brought by age, Ran had a feeling that Yanagi could slip into the shadows and never be found. Unless he wanted to be. Which was another concern. The red-head clutched Ken tighter to him at the thought of the hunter becoming the hunted. What if Yanagi was hunting Ken instead? Waiting as Kase had, to lay another trap? The ronin couldn't help but shudder. For reasons other than revenge, Ran certainly hoped it was they who found Yanagi first.

As if sensing a disturbance, the brunet behind him shifted slightly, and this time the nose that nuzzled at his neck was pleasantly warm.

"Mmm-saaii- fsshhh..." the ninja mumbled in his sleep, letting loose a heavy sigh. Ran tried not to chuckle too loudly, but feeling the vibrations, Ken sighed again, and smacked his lips, shifting slightly. "Nnn...nnn...Rnn?...Ran..?" he muttered groggily, still mostly asleep. The ronin thoroughly enjoyed how it had taken Ken four tries to get his name out.

"Yes?" the red-head replied in amusement, turning around and pulling Ken against his chest. Ken snuggled in and sighed again, saying nothing for several moments. Finally, just as Ran felt himself beginning to doze off, the brunet gave a little jerk and began mumbling again.

"Rnnn...t'thnn wann...fshh..." he muttered. The ronin chuckled again, unable to help himself, and pulled Ken closer, kissing him on the forehead.

"I can't hear you Ken. What?" he murmured in a low, soothing voice. Ken nuzzled his chest and sighed again.

"Fish...dammit...fish!" he growled, then buried his head between the futon and Ran's armpit. The red-head raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure that was a place Ken wanted to be. He _had _bathed the evening before, but still..."Too dmm brrttt." Ken muttered again, trying to burrow deeper. Ran couldn't help it; he laughed out loud and heartily, pulling the blankets over their heads and cocooning them in a warm darkness. Ken sighed contentedly and settled down. The red-head smiled and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into a pleasant sleep.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

They were rudely awakened two hours later when Yohji burst into the room. He clapped his hands loudly and slammed the screen to their sleeping quarters aside.

"Rise and shine ladies! You've missed breakfast and Persia is inquiring after your lovely faces. " he called flippantly. A loud groan came from the lump beneath the blankets on the futon, followed by quiet, low murmuring. Several seconds later, Ran sat up, hair sticking out at odd angles, but in no way hampering the super-strength death glare being shot in the playboy's direction.

Slowly, the red-head climbed from the futon, naked, and shrugged himself into a yuukata hanging on a peg near the bed. He belted it loosely and motioned for Yohji to follow him into the front room. Once they were out of ear-shot, Ran slid the bedroom door shut and turned the death glare up another five notches.

"I'll have you know, that Ken was actually _sleeping_ for once. This had _better_ be good, or you _won't_ be sleeping for the next _three_ nights." the ronin growled.

"Ahh, Fujimiya, friendly as always, I see. Rest assured, your _grace_, that I would not have disturbed your sleep unless it was important." the lanky man replied easily, sitting back and pulling out his pipe. Ran narrowed his eyes.

"You will not smoke in these apartments." he said flatly. Yohji shrugged and put the pipe back.

"As you say." he replied, resting one elbow on his still yuukata-clad knee. "Actually, I feel your pain, you know. The kid just roused me from bed with a lovely little flower still sleeping as it were, right beside me. But this is important." Ran's eyebrow twitched dangerously, and he closed his eyes in annoyance.

"Well, get on with it then." he bit out angrily. Yohji sighed heavily, and with the exhalation of breath, his face immediately drew itself down into a somber expression.

"Takatori's body guards are leaving the compound tomorrow. Apparently, they've pissed him off to the point of being banished from his property. According to Persia, he wasn't happy to learn of Kase's death, nor of the fact that Ken is the one who killed him. He wants Ken _dead_, and now has several men out looking for him." the lanky brunet said, voice deadly serious. Ran's expression turned to ice.

"He's got another thing coming if he thinks _any _of his men are going to get anywhere _near_ Ken. " the ronin spat. Yohji smiled grimly.

"Ah, but you're missing the point here, my friend. Ken isn't going to have to worry about any of that, because before it gets out of hand, we're going to get rid of the _root_ of the problem." the playboy replied, steepling his fingers, elbows on his thighs as he leaned closer towards Ran. The ronin leaned back.

"We're being sent to kill Takatori?" he breathed in surprise, eyes narrowing. Yohji nodded, and the smile that curled Ran's lips was truly frightening.

"It's about time." the ronin said in a deep, husky voice. The smile never left his face. Damn, he looked _scary_.

"Right. Naturally, you've been assigned the job of taking out the main target. The rest of us need to go in and destroy the compound so that it looks like there was an 'accident'." the lanky man replied. Ran nodded.

"When do we leave?" he asked flatly. Yohji chuckled darkly.

"Hold, my friend. Don't put the carriage before the horse, you know? Bright and early tomorrow morning; dawn, we meet, prepare, and then head-out towards his compound after breakfast. It's going to be a long and difficult journey, so we'll have to be careful. We're going dressed as samurai. " he said easily. Ran nodded again.

"Good, it'll give Ken more time to sleep. Is that why Persia wants to see us?" he asked evenly. Yohji shook his head.

"He wanted only to make sure you were around, which you are. I'll tell him you're ready at his command." Ran nodded.

"Fine. See you tomorrow morning."

"Mmm, definitely. Try not to tire ninja-boy out today, alright? We need him at full-capacity." the playboy finished flippantly. Ran balked, but before he could give Yohji the thrashing he so deserved, the lanky brunet was gone, laughter trailing down the hall behind him.

"Mmm...Ran? Whoze'at?" Ken appeared in the doorway, muttering. Ran couldn't help but smile at the sight of him; his eyes were squinched shut against the late-morning light, hair sticking out at all angles, and there were wrinkle-marks in his skin from where his face had been pressed against the futon. With a movement that marked his half-asleep state, the brunet stumbled over towards Ran, and sank down behind him, wrapping his arms around the ronin's waist. Ran's smile widened as he felt soft hair and smooth skin press gently against his back through the thin yuukata, and Ken yawned hugely. "Can' sl'p...'f y' aren' th'r." the ninja mumbled by way of explanation, and Ran wrapped his arms over Ken's, touched.

"Sorry. Just some minor explanations of our schedule tomorrow, courtesy of Yohji. " the red-head replied.

"Mmm? What're those?" the ninja replied, slowly coming more awake.

Ran's smile was positively sadistic. Luckily Ken wasn't in a position to see it.

"Tomorrow we decide how we're going to make Takatori suffer." the ronin whispered softly. Ken blinked against his back, and then jolted upright.

"Whoa! We're going after _Takatori_?" the brunet yelped, surprised. Ran nodded.

"Yes. And I'm wondering if he might not have information on where Yanagi is hidden." The arms around his waist tightened reflexively.

"I hope so." the ninja muttered darkly. Ran patted Ken's arm reassuringly.

"We'll find him Ken. Have no doubt. In the mean time, I have an idea of how we could spend our holiday…" the red-head murmured, turning to pull Ken into his lap. He planted his mouth over Ken's in a searing kiss before breaking away and nipping a line along the underside of the ninja's jaw. Ken sighed in pleasure, and Ran smiled a different sort of smile. 'Tire ninja-boy out indeed'…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"Schuldig—" Crawford began, walking into the room of their new 'house' that the German had claimed as his own. In truth, life in the estate that had been so 'generously' arranged for them by Estet was much improved over life in Takatori's holdings. The telepath in question was laying draped over the arm of a rather new and comfortable-looking settee, reading what looked to be a rather racy Greek play. When he heard his name, he looked up slowly, and favored Crawford with a silky smile.

"Herr Crawford." he replied easily, marking his page and fluidly snapping the book shut. He sat up with a slinky motion that made it look as if he'd levitated rather than moved through the use of his own muscles. The precog straightened his tie and cleared his throat in attempt to set more of a business-like mood. Schuldig was having none of it, however, and let his open shirt slide carelessly down one shoulder, leaving the pale skin bare and open to Crawford's discerning eye. Ignoring it, Crawford paused just shy of the German's reach. Schuldig pouted prettily.

"Going to disturb me without making it worth my while…?" he crooned. The tall man shook his head.

"No. I've got a different sort of entertainment for you now. Take Farferello with you; I want you to introduce yourselves to Weiss." he replied evenly. Schuldig regarded him carefully.

"I thought they were needed later?" he purred easily.

"They are. I didn't say to kill them. But I feel it's past-time we had our own introductions, outside of Takatori. I'm feeling they'd appreciate making the acquaintance of a certain traitor to the Kouichirou clan once they've eliminated Takatori." Now the German did grin.

"You want me to play match-maker again? Crawford you _darling_!" he murmured, sitting back against the settee once more. Crawford shook his head.

"Ah. Be careful. Estet will send Yanagi to eliminate Weiss; he'll be able to do it unless we interfere. Weiss is far too righteous-minded to pick up on the more dirty tricks. And they'll be occupied with the death of Takatori. You and Farferello will be going under the cover of aiding Yanagi. However, make sure that Yanagi doesn't leave Takatori's compound alive; it'll make things more difficult for us later. Use Weiss to eliminate him. Do what you have to, just don't let Farferello kill Weiss in Yanagi's stead." Schuldig's expression went delighted.

"I get to play with new toys? Crawford, you _shouldn't_ have." he replied. "How much can I play before I break them?"

"Just knock them around. Make it look like you tried without actually doing anything. We want this failure to be pinned on Yanagi, not us. Baring that in mind, do what you like. But make sure Yanagi is _dead_." the stoic man said flatly. Schuldig nodded, and gave Crawford a mock-salute.

"Yes sir, Herr leader!"

"Good, you leave tomorrow morning. Don't delay."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"….I'll leave Farferello to you."

"That's highly unfair. Why am _I_ always the one that has to keep tabs on him?"

"This is your mission. Just do it."

Schuldig snorted, and picked himself off the settee. This whole thing had better be worth it; he had better things to do than keep tabs on Farf for any prolonged period of time. The German wondered just what Crawford had up his sleeve. His one consoling thought was that he would be there to watch Takatori get what he deserved.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooooOOOoooOOO

Whoa! Ok, hopefully the last boring chapter. Next up; the siege on Takatori's castle! WAI! I hope you're all ready. (Cause I know I am…) From here on out it pretty-much deviates from the series. I don't have the time or the patience to include all the missions and what-not. Ok, Ja na!

And a great big THANK YOU to all my reviewers. You guys rock my world: )


	33. Shadows in the Dark

Wow! Another update! Whew! Gotta confess, this one may be a little less than stellar, and I apologize for that in advance. Enjoy.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_On the brushwood gate_

_A bolt is fastened—_

_The winter moon."_

_--Matsuo Basho_

_**Edo**_

_**Chapter 15B**_

They rode out directly after breakfast, horses packed, weapons concealed.Although the four of them rode together, once they were within the limits of Edo, they were to split up and change clothing and appearance. Each member was to use a different costume, according to their task in the mission.

Since Ran was to kill Takatori himself, the ronin had a servant's uniform that matched those of the Takatori household. The servants numbered enough that no one would question his appearance. Omi was to be an eager youth just signed in to Takatori's personal army; a boy who often made mistakes in his haste to please–namely getting lost and entering the wrong rooms. Yohji, a man whose face Takatori knew well even though his servants did not, was to dress as a traveling fortune teller, distracting guards and servants alike by selling his services in front of the compound. The Kudo charm, apparently, extended to many areas. Ken was to dress as a traveling tea salesman. In the winter, hot tea would be in demand, and Ken would sell cheaply enough to attract a crowd. He was to have two vats; one that was mixed with a potent, undetectable poison, and the other which was filled with regular tea, in the event a civilian stopped him on his way. Ken's job was to defeat as many guards as possible without getting caught. The poison he had chosen was mixed in parts enough to delay the body's reaction. The victim fell asleep and simply did not wake up. By the time anyone noticed the damage, it was estimated that Ken should have at least half the basic guard down.

Initially, Ran had been indignant, Yohji slightly so, at the idea of killing innocent guards in such a sneaky, underhanded way. Trained as a samurai, Ran's morals balked at the idea of stabbing any man in the back, or killing him dishonestly by any means. Yohji had been indignant because he had known some of the guards, who, despite working for Takatori, were good men, who felt they were truly fighting for a better Japan.

Ken and Omi had pointed out that regardless, they were in the way of the mission, and given the opportunity, would not hesitate to kill any member of Weiss, even though the men of Weiss also felt that what they were doing was the right thing. Ken had simply shrugged and said that the men knew what they had signed up for when they agreed to serve one of the most powerful men in the government. There was honor to be found in dying for the leader you served, in battle. That was life. Omi agreed.

To keep each other updated on status, they were to use a system of colored rice grains, that they had devised before-hand for the sole purpose of the mission. Carrier pigeons trained by Kritiker specifically for missions like this, equipped with small vials to carry the rice would be sent back and forth between the assassins as necessary; in the event of an emergency, or when someone had finished their part.

After they had all finished, they were to meet at an assigned spot behind the estate, where together they would begin the preparation of a large "accidental" fire that would destroy the Takatori household and thereby sway any suspicion of foul play in any case. Fires were common, and happened frequently enough that no one would question them. The key was not burning down the rest of the street in the blaze. Persia had assured them he would have separate agents nearby that would douse the fire and clean-up the mess as soon as the time was right.

Now, they rode through small towns and villages, taking short-cuts and back trails to reach their destination. They did not want to draw attention, and they did not want any of Takatori's spies reporting on their progress. Omi kept a sharp watch for hawks, eagles, doves, and pigeons, to insure they were not being followed by a less detectable kind of observation. After scanning the sky for the hundredth time that afternoon, the youth turned to look at the rest of his party.

Yohji had lit his pipe, and had somehow managed to sprawl on his horse. Omi didn't think one _could_ sprawl on a moving animal, but that was Yohji for you. He was the embodiment of ease, even when he was working. The lanky man caught Omi staring and flashed a wink at the blond, chuckling and putting his pipe to his lips with a flourish. The youth rolled his eyes and let loose a heavy sigh.

Ran and Ken were riding a bit behind, their horses close together. Judging by the exaggerated gestures and animated tones of his voice, the ninja was telling Ran some sort of amusing story. The ronin listened with a stoic face, every now and then leaning in more closely so as to hear details Ken dropped his voice for. At the moment, Ken was talking with his shoulders hunched, hands close to his body and moving with quick, short movements. Ran had leaned in close and gave a small, stoic nod occasionally. Omi could not help but smile. He did not regret for a moment his recommendations to have Ran and Ken join on with Kritiker. Despite their rather tenacious need to be constantly near one another, they were truly a priceless addition to the team.

Yohji had slowed his horse and caught up with the two, but by the time he and Omi were in ear-shot, the story was over, and Ran was shaking his head slowly, a small amused smile on his face.

"You are something else, you know that?" the ronin murmured. Ken shrugged and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well, a bet is a bet, ok? I wasn't gonna back out and neither was he."

"Even though you both knew it was stupid?"

"Yeah. That's not the point." Ran sighed in exasperation. Yohji raised an eyebrow."What's not the point?" he drawled, exhaling pipe smoke. Ken, realizing he now had a somewhat larger audience, blushed a hot cherry red and ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"N-nothin'. Long story." he muttered. Ran's smile turned into an amused smirk. Yohji raised the other eyebrow.

"Embarrassing stories to share, KenKen? I'm intrigued..." Ran scowled at the playboy, smirk gone. Ken huffed indignantly.

"Dammit, will you stop _calling_ me that?" the ninja growled. Yohji only tossed his head back and laughed, and Ken hated the fact that even laughing, Yohji looked perfect.

"If the name fits..." the lanky man trailed off. Ken 'hmpd' and crossed his arms in irritation. Omi smiled.

"Na, Ken-kun...know any other stories?" he prompted. Ken's face turned thoughtful.

"Umm...I can tell you about the time I got my hand stuck in a beehive..." he replied hesitantly.

"Sounds like something you'd do, KenKen." Yohji snickered. Ken glared at him. Ran shook his head again.

"How on earth did you manage _that_, praytell?" the ninja grinned at him.

"Actually, it was pretty easy..." he trailed off. Omi laughed.

"Why am I not surprised?" the youth replied good naturedly. Ken spared him a scowl before hunkering down and beginning his story.

"It started on my tenth birthday, when Takahashi-kun dared three of us to..."

And so the story went, followed by several of Yohji's own anecdotes, and even eventually one or two of Omi's own as well. The ride passed much faster than any of them could anticipate.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

When they arrived on the outskirts of Edo, they reigned in and turned to face each other. Omi looked at each face solemnly before nodding.

"Ok, everyone. We know what we have to do. Any questions?" silence reigned.

"Good. Let's do it then. And get back home as quickly as possible." he received nods in confirming response, before they turned away from each other. Yohji gave Omi a cocky smile.

_See you later. Don't lose your head._

Omi nodded and smiled in return, expression grave.

_Mind you don't lose your own head._

And the two split ways, heading in opposite directions.

Ken and Ran drew in close together and sat in silence for a moment before Ran lifted a hand and gently stroked two fingers along the curve of Ken's jaw.

"Take care of yourself." the ronin murmured in a soft, tremulous voice. Ken nodded, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, you too. Anything happens to you I'll kick your ass, ok?" the ninja replied. Ran smiled softly and before he knew what was happening Ken had reached over the distance between them and was crushing Ran in a bear hug.

"Come back in once piece." and then the brunet was gone, riding away, and not looking back. Ran stared after him until he disappeared into the city, and then slowly turned his own horse for the main gates. Gods, if Ken didn't come back in one piece, Takatori wasn't going to be the only one dead...

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Schuldig watched with a bored air as the last of the emperor's little group of pawns set themselves up for the evening. Beside him, Farferello shifted restlessly, muttering about something in a language the German had never heard and licking at a fresh wound he'd made on his arm before the telepath had been able to stop him. Yanagi, yet another pretentious Japanese bastard, sat opposite them, sipping at his tea with his eyes closed. Schuldig scowled at him in contempt and nudged Farferello into stillness. Brad owed him for this; big time. And it was gonna take more than just great sex. After all of this, _Crawford_ could be the one dealing with all the damn nut cases.

"Are they in place yet?" the man across from them muttered. Schuldig's scowl melted into a sly fox's smile as he answered. Not that it mattered. Yanagi was rude enough to not even look at the two of them when he talked.

"I don't know. Isn't this _your_ mission?" the German replied, unable to resist. Yanagi glared at him and said nothing. He looked out the window, but it was too late, Weiss was already gone. Idiot. Served him right for expecting service from people he treated like crap. With a sigh, the man rose.

"It doesn't matter. They should be well in place by now anyway." he levered Schuldig a contemptuous glare and then turned a suspicious gaze on Farferello. "I'm not in the mood to babysit tonight, so I don't care _what_ Esstet told you, stay out of my way and we'll all be better off."

_We most certainly will, my good man._ Schuldig though charitably. _Farferello, change in plans... _ he continued. When he felt he had the Irishman's attention, he pressed on. _Hang Crawford. Tonight we'll sit back and watch the show. Be sure to give Weiss a hand my good fellow. We wouldn't want Yanagi to go disappointed...they're both **dying** to meet each other, after all..._ The German could feel Farferello's wicked grin as the man licked a dagger and shoved it into his belt. They followed Yanagi from the room.

"Are we clear?" Yanagi snapped, having wanted an answer from them. Schuldig smiled politely and lowered his eyes, effectively hiding the malicious gleam in them.

"Oh yes, perfectly. We'll be sure to stay _far _from your sight..." he blew out the lantern and slid the door shut.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ran stood in the shadows, waiting, watching, as the real servants in Takatori's estate scuttled to and fro, filling orders and completing chores. He had made sure to remain hidden from sight and yet within ear shot so that he was not selected for a task that would not take him to Takatori's private chambers.

He spent a few more moments, simply listening, until finally, the order he'd been waiting for was called out, and a male servant took off to bring Takatori a fresh bottle of warm sake. Ran followed him through dark halls and a dizzying number of turns until finally, they reached the outer door. It was guarded by two men who looked fairly difficult to take down. Ran made note of how the servant walked, what he said, and how he entered. He would have to be quick, and he would have to dispatch the guards outside first. The only way for him to do it was when they were unprepared and unexpectant. Something Ran loathed doing. It may have been necessary to the mission, but for Ran, the idea of defeating an opponent by taking him unawares made his skin crawl. It was dishonorable. Still, he had a mission to accomplish and a revenge to fulfill, and nothing would stand in his way. Absolutely nothing. Morals included.

Taking a final note of his surroundings and the main hallways used to come and go, Ran waited silently in the hallway just before Takatori's door, ready to catch the next servant unawares.

He hadn't long to wait. Another man came scurrying along hurriedly, carrying a tray bearing fresh tobacco and a clean pipe. Quickly, Ran snagged him around the neck before he could manage to make it within sight of the guards. In his other hand, he deftly caught the tray before it tipped and upset its contents, making more clamor than he could afford. The servant was unconscious immediately, and Ran dragged him out of sight, tucking him in a nearby empty room.

Adjusting his clothing, he reset the tray neatly, exactly has it had been before, and stoically set off for Takatori's room, wakezashi and katana concealed in his baggy servant's clothing. He was fortunate it was dim in the halls. If it had been bright enough, no amount of baggy clothing would have hid the suspicious stiffness about his clothes.

If he had expected to encounter any difficulties at the door, he was surprised. Both guards went down quite easily. A precise strike to the throat was all it took. Each guard went down quickly. Ensuring the sound of the guards falling to the floor didn't cause a racket was by far the more difficult part. But he managed to succeed, dropping the tray in the process, which covered the sound of bodies falling.

A rough voice from within bade him enter, followed by a rude comment about his clumsiness. Too bad Takatori's arrogance got in the way of his common sense. Ran's 'clumsiness' would be the facilitator of the daimyo's death. Wordlessly, he slipped inside.

"Where's your greeting boy?" the man ground out grumpily. He was sitting behind his black-lacquer desk, leaning his chin on his elbows and perusing a document of some sort. He did not even look up when the ronin entered. "And where's my damn pipe?" Ran said nothing as he approached the man. He knelt to one knee in front of the structure and lowered his head, sliding the tray on to the table. He didn't flinch when Takatori slapped his palm down on the smooth surface; hard.

"Dammit boy! Answer me! Where's your manners?" Ran felt his lips curl into a snarl. Finally, revenge was _his_.

"Right. Here." he growled out. Before Takatori could understand what was happening, there was a wakezashi blade at his throat. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to bellow for his guards. None came to answer his calls, and the tip pressed further into his skin, as if cutting through paper, spilling red ink from underneath.

"What do you want?" it was not a threat, nor a growl, nor a challenge. It was not the sound of a man begging or afraid. It was the sound of a man who is busy and wishes to be finished with an unpleasant or boring situation. The casual, curt tone infuriated Ran.

"My family's honor restored. Will you stand up and fight me like a man?" he hissed. Takatori smirked.

"Your funeral boy. But if that's what you want, fine, you'll have it. You going to let me stand and get a sword?"

"That depends. Are you going to follow the rules of swordplay conduct?" Ran shot back. Takatori raised both his hands.

"I swear upon the souls of my ancestors you'll have your 'fair' fight." Slowly, Ran withdrew his blade enough for Takatori to move. Sharp violet eyes watched the man walk to a closet painted with mountain pine forests and slide the doors aside, revealing three ornate sword racks. They glinted like greed in the dimness of the single lantern. The room was vast, and largely empty. Perfect for a fight. The daimyo pulled two katanas out and handed one to Ran casually.

"You going to fight me with something other than that little stick you've got there, boy?" the ronin growled. Takatori was treating him like a boy that needed to be beaten and taught a lesson. He would soon learn his mistake.

"I have my own with me." So saying, the red-head reached over one shoulder and pulled his katana from its sheath, where it had been strapped snugly against his spine. Uncomfortable, but worth it. Raising his eyebrows, Takatori put the other sword back.

"Least you came prepared. Can I ask to what occasion I owe this honor?" he asked as they drew their blades and faced each other in the traditional position. The tone dripped with disinterest.

"It wouldn't matter to you anyways. I'm sure you have no idea who the hell I am."

"Tell me anyways. It'll make an interesting story later." Ran felt his eyebrow twitch.

"Fujimiya, Ran. The only son of the Fujimiya household, that once resided in your fife." he spat with loathing. Takatori wasn't going to _be_ around to tell any stories later. Not if Ran had his way. Recognition lit on Takatori's face.

"Oh yes. The Fujimiyas. Thought you were all dead. It's difficult to find competent help these days. " Ran tried very hard not to let his muscles spasm in rage.

"All. But. One." he ground out.

"Then I suppose I should take care of that. Enough talking. Let's get on with it."

"Fine. By. Me. "

And so the battle began, and Ran lunged into it with all his heart. Now was the only time he had, and now was the only time he'd ever need to make Takatori pay for his sins.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Omi wandered down the hall at a brisk pace, his face a mask of eager determination. It wasn't a hard look to fake. Already, his efforts had gotten him thirteen illegal and dishonorable documents and deals, and several books of accounting, both fake and real. Not to mention the fact that he was having a wonderful time pissing everyone off.

No one seemed to have suspected anything more sinister than his excuse of being directionally challenged, and the worst he'd done so far, was in fact, annoy the cook. His youthful, innocent face softened even the hardest of hearts and grumpiest of moods. He hadn't been struck once yet for his mistakes, and the servants were even kindly enough to guide him in this direction or that when he stopped them to ask.

The results were that he'd almost finished his part of the mission within an hour. He wondered, briefly, how the others were faring, and paused when he caught sight of a 'sleeping' guard out in front of the wall through the window. He smiled to himself and kept walking.

It appeared they were doing fine, if that was any indication. The youth prayed their luck would hold up.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

So far, Yohji had told exactly twenty three fortunes, and distracted the lot of guards and servants gathered round him by predicting death in the future of the housekeeper. This put several of his crowd into a flutter, and details were demanded. Yohji let himself have a lot of fun making up something creative. He had a feeling the poor soul would never go near another fruit stand again.

This wild prediction, of course, coupled with his irresistible charm, drew several more customers, who demanded fortunes as creative as the housekeeper's. He'd been busy. So had at least half the household staff and several nearby bored-looking guards. Originally they'd come to stop him from soliciting , but grew interested in the goings-on, and were now held in the thrall, demanding their own fortunes to be read. Everyone wanted something exciting to be happening in their future; something dangerous, yet survivable. Quite ironic really, considering the circumstances of his visit. He wondered how the others were faring, and hoped things were going as easily, if not better. Especially in Ran's case. He couldn't help but think that although Ran deserved the right to his revenge, Ken should have been sent inside instead. The man was trained to slip in and past guards and servants without ever leaving a trace. Yohji had heard stories of ninja households. Before they'd burned Ken's as a funeral pyre, the young man had gone through and stomped on several random floor-boards which then jumped up to reveal a sheathed sword or weapon at the ready. It had been pretty damn impressive. So had the revolving walls that had looked so innocent.

Well, no sense in pondering now. It was up to Ran. They'd help him if it was necessary. Yohji's life as a spy simply gave him a distaste for making things messier than necessary.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

It was damn freaking cold out here. Ken was layered appropriately, but not too layered, or the weapons he'd concealed on his person would chance being detected. The scythe most tea-sellers carried to help them cut plants was securely in his belt at ready, and Ken was relieved to at least be allowed that. Of course, there was nothing to say that the two extremely hot and heavy vats of tea he bore couldn't also be used as weapons. So far, the guards Yohji hadn't distracted, and some of those he had, had fallen prey to Ken's special tea. He'd made the formula himself before they'd left Persia's compound, grinding it into a harmless looking powder that he'd dumped into the vat when it had been readily passed off to him by another Kritiker agent assigned to meet him. Omi had watched him with a sharp interest, and Ken wouldn't be surprised if he received some questions that evolved into lessons from the youth after the mission was over.Now he wandered seemingly aimlessly, within the estate walls. He'd been invited inside by a servant who had complained bitterly of the cold. The servants were fortunate to receive the regular tea. Any guards were not so lucky. Ken stared up at the looming structure of the house itself out of his peripheral vision, wondering when and how he would best enter. With a pang, the ninja wondered how Omi and Ran were doing. He could tell Yohji was doing well enough, if the crowd outside the gates was any indication. Although amusingly, the lanky spy had been too busy spinning yarns to notice him. Which was a good thing. If one of your own team didn't pay attention, then you were doing a good job.

"You there!" calmly, Ken looked up. A guard was waving him over.

"Bring us some tea! It's freezing out here!" bobbing his head politely, Ken wandered over slowly and began his task again.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

The fight with Takatori was turning out to be anti-climactic. It became clear to Ran after the first ten minutes that not only was Takatori older and out of shape from lack of practice, but the man's sword skills obviously hadn't been that grand to begin with. Panting now, the old man was doing more blocking than striking, and Ran was hard pressed to resist the urge to toy with him until he realized he was being toyed with and then murder the Daimyo in his humiliation. He would have deserved it.

And Ran wasn't thinking of only his own family. He was thinking of Ken's. Although the ninja had pointed out that the traitors had willingly betrayed their own kin, Takatori was still the man who had facilitated it, and he was still the man behind it, pulling all the strings. A betrayal might not have happened at all, if so successfully, without the daimyo requesting the devastation himself. For that alone, Ran wanted to kill Takatori in the most painful of possible ways. Never mind his own family, and the rage that brought on. To satisfy that rage, Ran would have to kill the man and then revive him to do it over and over again.

In any case, they were making an awful lot of racket, and someone was bound to catch on soon, if not already. Regretfully, the battle needed to end. With a patient and practiced move, breath still hardly labored, Ran blocked a strike to the head with fluent ease and slid inwards towards his attacker. In a quick movement, blade flashing briefly, his sword, the sword bequeathed to him by his master, moved in a graceful arch, slicing along the flesh of Takatori's ribs and down towards his hips. The man fell back heavily, blinking at Ran in shock for a moment.

"You…you've been holding back?" he stuttered. Ran smirked maliciously.

"I had wanted more of a fight." the ronin spat. Takatori's gaze darkened, the silver-tongued politician suddenly peering out from his eyes.

"So, you really think my death is going to make you feel better about that silly scandal?" Ran growled.

"Yes."

"I'm lying on the floor in my own blood. Tell me, do you feel better yet?" The ronin tilted his head to the side, considering.

"Yes." Takatori blinked in surprise before his lips curved into a wicked smile.

"You know, of course, that doesn't make you any better than me?" This time it was Ran's turn to smile frighteningly. He tilted his sword for the killing strike.

"I never had any illusions about that before I came here. My goal is not to be above or below. You already saw to that. I want only revenge." he snarled viciously, bringing the blade tip to touch the skin on the daimyo's chest, just above his heart.

"Revenge? For what? The death of your family? It wasn't I who ordered them to be murdered. Your own father took care of that on his own, without my command." the sword vibrated dangerously, but Ran made no reply. Takatori laughed bitterly.

"Ah yes. Didn't think of that did you. Of the two of us, who is the murdered? I've never raised a hand to anyone. Your father chose to kill his wife and daughter, as well as himself. Who then, is the killer?" and the daimyo pushed too far. Ran growled, and shoved the blade through his heart violently. Takatori fell against the floor with a jerk, his back arching in the final death throes before he grew still. Above him, Ran panted, blade still firmly sheathed between Takatori's ribs; directly in his heart. Staring into dying eyes, the ronin made his final speech.

"My father chose to kill himself after the disgrace you put upon our family. You have not murdered one, you have murdered hundreds, possibly thousands with your actions. Karma understands that action causes reaction, which creates the never-ending cycle. If you cause the water in a pond to ripple and drown the insects upon it, who is the killer? The man who has caused the ripples or the ripples themselves? I am here to ensure you will never cause such devastation again." So saying, the red-head wrenched the blade in Takatori's chest, enjoying the way he writhed in pain. Placing a foot below his blade, he yanked it from the wound, and watched with a greedy satisfaction as blood welled to the surface spilling out. The daimyo's mouth opened, no doubt to utter a parting curse, but Ran had seen to it the man could say nothing. Instead, blood spurted from pale lips and then the daimyo lay still, eyes clouded and staring at nothing. Ran remained, panting and staring, trying to make his world fit together again. He wondered if this is what Ken had felt like when he had killed Kase. He wondered if it felt this…empty.

"And Karma will come for me too, someday, to take payment for my sins." Turning, he slid open a window and peered around. He was still on the ground level, and the room faced a garden, unoccupied at the moment. Nodding to himself, Ran jumped gracefully over the window ledge and into the night, pulling a small, soundless whistle from his sleeve.

Moments later, a small pigeon flew down and landed on his forearm. The ronin carefully laid his still naked blade on the earth and dug into a small secret pocket until he felt the frail seeds of grain. He selected three; grey, dark blue, and dark green, and placed them carefully in the vile, sealing it. With a flick of his wrist, the bird was off. Ran settled into the shadows and waited, cleansing his sword first in earth, and then with his cloth. A reply would arrive shortly.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

The distinct yet slight sound of flapping got Ken's attention, and he turned from his idle perusal of the servant's outdoor station to scan the sky. There was a slight shadow, flying above him in the dark against the starlight sky, and the ninja smiled, pulling a small whistle from his sleeve and darting around a dark corner.

When the bird landed, he eyed the rice in the vial and added an extra two grains of his own; another grey, and then an orange, and sent the bird off to Yohji. Looking around, he discovered himself to be underneath two windows, at the second story, but in an otherwise low-traffic area. Gracefully, he discarded his tea vats off to one side, grateful to get the weight off his shoulder before removing his outer tunic to reveal clothing that was a dull, dark brown-grey. Perfect for blending into the shadows of a house. Sliding his hand-claws into place, with an extra spike apparatus on the palm-side, he began to scale the wall, quickly and efficiently, to the second story window that was dark.

He reached it with little incidence and slipped inside, creeping quietly to the door and sliding it aside the tiniest crack. He was rewarded with the sight of a servant guiding a bewildered looking Omi in his direction. How very fortunate. Smirking, the brunet tugged slightly at the cloth over his nose and mouth, and waited patiently until they were close enough.

Apparently, Omi noticed, for as they drew parallel to the door, he tripped, causing both himself and the servant to fall into the room as Ken silently and quickly opened and closed the door. The servant was unconscious before he could make a sound. The youth turned to Ken expectantly, and he tugged the cloth from his nose and mouth.

"Got word from Ran. He's finished and waiting in the garden. Sent it to Yohji, told him I was waiting and I'd find you. " the ninja whispered quietly. Omi nodded.

"Good, then let's get into position and wait for word from the others." Ken nodded, and carefully, they slipped soundlessly into the hallway, and down the corridor.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Elsewhere, Schuldig smirked, the mental signatures reaching him through the sake in his brain. Brad would have scolded him for drinking on the job, but then Brad wasn't dealing with this misery, so he could go fuck himself. Besides, everything was falling into place. Turning, he favored Yanagi with a good-natured smirk the man didn't deserve.

"Takatori is dead." he said simply, sounding ornately pleased. He'd fed off of that telepathic signature and the ronin's the most. Delicious. He'd share all the details with Brad later. The man had, after all, given him the opportunity to witness _that_ at least. Yanagi simply scowled and said nothing. He left them with a meaningful glance as he rose and departed. Schuldig's responding smile was acid.

_Let's go have our own fun, Farfie._

_Can we **now**? I want to make that man's insides into the shape of a horse._

_All in good time deary. Let's go watch the show._

_Murdering in the dark makes God cry._ Mentally, Schuldig rolled his eyes.

_Of course it does, Farfie, of course it does…_ And with that, they made their own departure; into the shadows.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Waaaahhhh! I did it! I updated! Aren't you proud?

Anyways, I'm sorry if this chapter suffers from distraction. Please bare with me. As always, THANK YOU for your reviews. I love to read them all, and they inspire me to keep going in this madness. Ta for now!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	34. He moved through the fair

Whew, after forever, here it is. I'm sorry it's so short in advance, and be aware of possible bad quality as I am highly busy and distracted, and this story really requires a great amount of my concentration to make it come out decently.

Ok, on with the show. Bit of a different poem this time… a _renku_. A renku is a "unique type of poem with multiple authorship. It normally consists of 36, 50, or 100 verses (stanzas) contributed by a (team) of poets." It is much like a game, and in often written with amusement in the mind of the gathering.

Other notes:

Falconing is a very interesting subject, and I wish I had the means to try it myself. Ninjas did use hawks, and other birds of prey, but I believe that in a city like Edo, such a bird would be inappropriate as to be out of its natural habitat in the heart of the city. Also it is more conspicuous in a city. Although I could very well be wrong.

This is the reason that Farf and Schu use the bird, as they know it will get Weiss' attention. Okay, really moving on this time…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

_From the cluster of grass_

_A frightening creature—a frog_

_In the evening dusk. _

_The lady hunting for butterburs_

_Jerks her lantern, and the light is gone._

_--Matsuo Basho et. all_

_**Edo Chapter 16**_

Yohji was in the middle of a rather intricate story of a mishap that had occurred in a particular tea house in Nara when he heard the faint flapping of a bird's wings. A pigeon landed on the wall above him, cooing and rutting back and forth. While the lanky playboy tried to think of a way to excuse himself from his crowd, a sudden wet _'splat'_ sounded on his shoulder. Several guards laughed and an older woman with only two sad, browned teeth in her mouth yelled enthusiastically that Yohji'd just been bestowed extraordinary good luck. The brunet tried, valiantly, not to give her a dirty look, and rose gracefully, despite the ugly white and black be-speckled stain now dripping down his chest.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me, I think I'd better clean this good luck up, before it runs too far." he said politely. One of the guards, still laughing, thumped him on the back enthusiastically and gestured within the front gates.

"The outdoor servants' station should be able to help you my friend. Then we must have a drink together, once you look presentable again." the man said warmly. Yohji nodded.

"Ahh yes, a sake would be lovely. You'll be buying of course. After that kind of trauma a man should be treated to something strong." he teased lightly. The guards laughed harder.

"We'll see. Get cleaned up first. The rest of you, go on about your business, there's nothing further here!" grumbling, the crowd slowly dispersed as Yohji made his way into the gates and to the servants' station. The pigeon flew off and met him in the shadows behind the building after a call on the whistle.

"You, my friend, are either very clever or very sloppy." the playboy murmured good-naturedly as he glanced at the contents of the vial. He slipped a grey grain in with the mix to signify he too was ready and waiting, and shrugged out of his fortune-teller's robes, slipping off to the servants' entrance of the castle as he sent the pigeon off again. So far, so good.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ran was waiting, sitting in the snow, trying hard to ignore the horrible feeling inside of him, spawned by dissatisfaction when he heard the fluttering of a bird's wings. Pulling out his whistle, he called the animal to him and looked at the remarkably changed contents of the vial.

Ken, his grains each carved with two tiny notches, was waiting and had set out to find Omi. Yohji, whose grains were marked with three grooves, was waiting. Ran nodded to himself and sent the bird off to hopefully find Ken and Omi. He crouched down once more to wait until they had all been found and were ready to move in.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Omi and Ken had made it to a dark and mostly empty storage closet at the rear of the estate. The youth opened a window and sat out of sight directly near it, listening for the sound of a bird while Ken waited by the door, listening for potential intruders and ready to take action against them.

Omi did not have long to wait. He blew the whistle immediately, and the bird landed on the window sill. Omi pulled it in and checked the contents of the vile. Nodding to himself and passing a look to Ken, both men nodded and Omi emptied the vile, only to put one blood red grain back in. They were moving; _now_. The youth sent the bird off, and nodding again to each other, he and Ken began the preparations for the destruction of the Takatori estate.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yohji heard the fluttering and smirked at the contents of the vile. He sent the animal off with a flick of his wrist and moved into position to help the other two with the preparations.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Finally, the information made its way to Ran, who slipped back into the room with the dead Takatori to begin his end of the preparations. He found it humorous that no one had bothered to discover what had happened yet. It only proved that greed and power did not necessarily earn you respect or concern. In fact, usually, such traits earned one the opposite. At least he had taken one of those people out of this world.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

_Well, Farfie. Everything's in place._ the German sniggered mentally to his counterpart. His only response was thrill of anticipation from the Irishman, who turned to the hooded falcon resting on his forearm. Farferello did not wear falconing gloves, and the creature's sharp talons dug deeply into his skin, spilling blood. The Irish man paid it no mind. With a tender grace that belied the psychopath's true nature, he stroked the soft breast lovingly with two pale fingers.

"Now my little Dark Prince, king of birds. Find the kitties." he murmured. He turned to regard Schuldig solemnly. "If anything happens to the Dark Prince, I'll be very upset Schuldig." he said, tone veiling a slight threat. The German laughed.

_Now now, Farferello. All he has to do is give a simple message. We only want the Weiss kitties to know they're being set up. It will make things more fun to have the two ninjas hunting each other, don't you think?_ Farferello only shrugged.

_I want to hurt that old man. Someone should show him how to **really** make God weep. He's a very bad assassin._ was the Irishman's response. Schuldig's chuckle echoed off the walls of his skull.

_You'll simply have to settle for watching the kitties make a proper job of it. But they can't do that unless you let Dark Prince give them the message._ Farferello nodded reluctantly, and stroking the breast of his falcon once more, he removed the hood and sent the formidable creature out the window of the small shack they hid in.

Dark Prince took off into the night with an ominous shriek of warning.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ken froze, mid-action, and darted to a window, throwing it open quickly and silently. Omi was at his side in an instant. Ken reached into his sleeve and pulled out the soundless whistle.

The pigeon arrived shortly, from where it had been sitting in a small tree nearby. The ninja pulled a small hood over its head and wrapped a soft cloth securely around its wings, tucking it into his sleeve. The bird was instantly quieted.

"Ken-kun…?" Omi whispered, wondering what on earth Ken was doing. Ken only shook his head, listening again. They sat in silence for several moments, and just as Omi was about to try and inquire as to the problem once more, they both started as they heard the cry of a falcon. Omi wasn't sure what it meant, but if Ken was taking it this seriously, then it had to be significant.

Leaning out the window, the ninja cupped his hands around his mouth and made an astoundingly accurate Falcon's cry himself. The cry from before grew closer, and Ken echoed it again. He pulled the length of cloth from around his face once more and wrapped it securely around his arm just in time to have a magnificent bird of prey fly through the open window and alight on the material.

Omi jumped back hastily, surprised by both the unexpectedness and sheer size of the animal. Who on earth used a bird of that size and conspicuousness in a city like Edo? More to the point, who would risk so fine an animal? Ken stroked its feathers reverently before gently tugging at the scroll attached to its foot. The falcon waited patiently, blinking at Omi in the darkness. The youth tired to ignore the feeling of being scrutinized, by a bird of all things, and turned his attention back to Ken, whose face had grown dark.

"Ken-kun…what is it?" he asked cautiously. Ken crumbled the paper up and put it into his mouth, swallowing it. He grimaced as it slid down his throat and landed heavily into his stomach. Omi blinked at him.

"Yanagi is here. He's planning to stage an ambush on Weiss after we've begun the destruction of the compound." the ninja responded evenly.

"That's what the note said?" Ken nodded.

"Yeah. It was instructions about where he was supposed to wait. Either whoever is behind this is really stupid or…we're being set up." Omi frowned thoughtfully, his own expression darkening.

" Then we'll have to make sure we don't fall for anything stupid." the youth replied. On Ken's arm, the falcon shifted restlessly, tittering softly, the feathers on its head momentarily ruffling. Ken stroked it absently, thinking. After a moment, Omi finally spoke.

"Change positions to the fallout plan. Let's disorient things a little first. We'll send work to Aya and Yohji about what's happened, and keep everyone on the look out for suspicious activities. We can't let this hinder the mission." Ken nodded.

"Fine. I'll keep this guy here so he doesn't intercept our…smaller bird." the ninja replied, pulling the pigeon out with his free hand and handing it to Omi. The hawk shifted, watching them closely. Omi unwrapped the cloth from the pigeon's wings and handed it to Ken, who in turn wrapped it into a make-shift hood around the Falcon's eyes. With a confirmatory glance at Ken, Omi filled the vile with the correct grains and sent it off hurriedly. They waited in the darkness, Omi continuing in preparations while Ken stroked the falcon soothingly so as not to distress it and kept careful watch from the window.

He would not allow Yanagi to escape him again. And if the man thought he could usurp Ken and his comrades twice, he had another thing coming.

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Argh! Sorry this is so short. Unfortunatley, I'm really busy so this story is going to be coming in smaller segments until I have the time to really put in to it. With preparations for moving back to the US well underway, I've got a lot going on right now. I'm sorry if the quality of any of my work is suffering, and beseech you to please bear with me. Comments and suggestions are welcome, but please no flames. If people start flaming me the story stops.

Thank you again to all my wonderful reviewers, especially those of you who review loyally almost every chapter. You all have a special place in my heart.

Hope to see you all again soon. Ja na,

Elfgoddess

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


	35. Moshiwake degozaimasen

Urgh.

I am a bad, bad monkey, and I know that. I had no idea when I started these stories, that they would not be finished before my return to America.

As one might imagine, the preparations of moving from country to country are quite a task to undertake. Factor in that there is no internet at my house, and it makes for some grim horizons. Add on top of that that I now have only three office days remaining before my job will be over here. I've taken my remaining ten days of paid leave off. I need them, badly.

This is not to tell you that the stories will NOT be finished. They will. It's just going to take a lot longer than previously realized. However, I don't know if I can promise any new ones after.

Upon my return to America, I'll be moving in with my grandparents, who don't have PC internet. They have TV internet, which does NOT allow for the transferring and updating of files. Which means I'll have to try a library or something. In any case, updating is going to be significantly slower and far more difficult once I am back home.

In the mean time, I'll try to keep updating when I can, as I can, although it may mean short chapters.

Thank you all so much for reviewing and sticking with me through the tardiness. I promise, no matter what it takes, I won't turn into one of those writers that leaves their stories unfinished indefinitely. I HATE that. Most of all. So I'll finish these two arcs if it kills me. Just understand it's going to potentially take a lot longer.

Thank you again, so much, and I'm so sorry to disappoint you all. I'll keep trying.

Ja ne,

Aubrey


	36. White Flames

Ha ha! No one suspects….an UPDATE! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

But that's just what I've brought you. Finally. Enjoy!

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"_And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—"_

_Alfred Noyes, The Highwayman_

_**Edo, Chapter 17**_

Farferello was grinning maniacally as he slid open the torn, faded shoji and let his falcon fly into their shack. The formidable bird landed on his offered forearm without missing a beat, fluffed his feathers slightly, tilted his head to the side, and squawked once. Grumbling, Schuldig reached out reluctantly, and placed two fingers atop the bird's skull while the madman stroked its feathers soothingly. God, but he _hated_ plumbing the minds of animals, even if at times they gave information of utmost importance. As in this moment. Dark Prince had been gone quite some time, and the German was _certain_ that meant good things.

His foray into the falcon's mind was blessedly brief and informative. When his fingers came away, his eyes opened into narrow slits and a feline grin curled the corners of his mouth. Yes. This was all going to work out rather _splendidly_. Schuldig took a moment to applaud himself for his genius.

"Well?" came the tense prompt from the Irishman beside him. Dark Prince shifted restlessly on a pale forearm, talons releasing ribbons of red against the fragile, pale skin.

"All our pawns are in place. None of them have a clue. And the fireworks begin in 3…2….1…" both Shuldig and Farferello's expectant tenseness was ended with the sound of a huge explosion. It rocked the earth beneath them and filled the dark velvet skies with an angry orange heat. Shuldig's smile widened.

"Shall we shepherd the lost sheep?" the Irishman's question was laced with an insane delight.

"Oh yes, I think we shall. It wouldn't due for Weiss to miss their appointment. And I long to be rid of that bloody imbecile as well. Come Farferello. Remember, we musn't kill the white king's men just yet. There's still quite a game to be played." Farferello nodded eagerly.

"Oh yes, I remember." he breathed eagerly. The German threw his cassock over his shoulders and tipped his hat down over his eyes as the Irishman replaced the hood over his falcon's eyes.

"Come. We go."

_Into the darkness._

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yohji was concentrating on following his own specific escape plan, laid out to each of them before the mission, when he caught the first sight of Schwartz. He'd received the warning earlier, and so the encounter was not unexpected. But that was not to say that it was _wanted_.

In fact, the _last_ thing Yohji wanted to do right now, with panicking servants and a roaring house-fire at his back, was run into Schwartz. Especially since he was pretty damn sure they'd put themselves in his path, deliberately.

"Greetings. Yohji, was it?" the smarmy, arrogant voice of Schuldig sent Yohji skin crawling. Glaring, he grit his teeth and set his shoulders back, coming to an abrupt halt.

"I don't have time for pleasantries. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little occupied at the moment." he growled in response. Schuldig laughed. Beside him, Farferello stood, his expression eerily vacant and yet intense in the way that only insanity could render it. He was oddly motionless, like a puppet with it's strings poised for a performance.

"Indeed you don't. At this moment, there is another enemy I would worry about if I were you…" the German trailed off suggestively. Misreading the comment, Yohji growled slightly.

"If you're planning to take me—"

"Oh Weiss. I wouldn't dream of it. Fighting one of you wouldn't even be marginally entertaining. I'd prefer to wait for all four of you to be present for that. In the mean time, I wish to offer a polite…._alert_." The red-haired demon look alike tripped carefully through his sentences, and Yohji could practically _see_ the verbal traps he was setting.

"Then deliver your _alert_ and be done with it!" the brunet snapped impatiently. He _really_ needed to get out of here. Schwartz made him far too uncomfortable.

" Now, now, no need to be touchy, my lad. By the way, _brilliant_ job with all this." Schuldig waved his hand airily around, indicating the quickly disintegrating estate around them. "How _is_ ninja-boy anyway? He put on a rather entertaining show earlier." Yohji's expression went tight with frigid rage.

"He's fucking _dandy_, no thanks to you. And you'd better stay the hell away from him. Now get the _fuck_ out of my way." the playboy ground out, tired of playing games and getting edgy about the encroaching nearness of the pandemonium around them.

"_Oh_, but it isn't _us_ you should be worrying about." the red-head purred, his head moving closer to Yohji with an air of secret knowledge. Yohji froze.

"What did you _do_ to him you bastards?" he scowled angrily.

"Nothing. We're here talking to you of course. Honestly Yohji, I thought you were smarter than that. Apparently not." Suddenly he and Farferello were moving back, their shadowed forms melting into blackness. Yohji caught sight of the familiar falcon resting on Farferello's arm as they disappeared.

"Dammit Schuldig! What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean?" he roared into the darkness. Schuldig's laugh seemed to reverberate around his skull.

_'That's a secret. Perhaps you should try figuring it out. I'd hurry if I were you…'_

Cursing and not thinking about the invasion into his thoughts, Yohji took off at a dead run for their meeting point, no longer concerned with being seen. Let them mistake him for another fleeing victim. Right now, he _had_ to find the rest of Weiss. Ken's life may very well depend upon it. And damn if Yohji wasn't getting tired of the rest of the world viewing Ken as target practice.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

According to the fallout plan, Ken and Omi were to get themselves to the meeting place first. As their position was the deepest in the house, it was likely that they would be the target of any assassins-cum-servants, should word or alarm break out. Ken and Omi were chosen to infiltrate the depths of the compound for many reasons With Ken's skills as a ninja and Omi's as a spy (Hey, Yohji wasn't the _only_ one…), coupled with Yohji's recognizability potential and Ran's lack of espionage skills, the two younger members of Weiss had been the best choice.

Now, however, as both men ran quietly beside each other, expertly dodging fleeing servants and flaming debris, it seemed plans were about to go awry. Their first clue occurred when Omi suddenly gave a sharp cry and fell, mid-step, to the earth with a heavy sound, causing Ken to screech to a halt and whirl around frantically. He raced back to the youth and turned him over gingerly, cursing softly at the small patch of crimson blossoming to the upper left, where the youth's chest began to give way to his shoulder. He made to remove his hand-claws, to tend the wound, pulling Omi's head carefully into his lap, when a surprisingly firm grip on his writs stopped him.

"Ken-kun, no. Let's…let's go. I can make it. We'll tend it later." The youth panted.

"Well yes, perhaps _someone_ will tend it later, but it won't be Ken." A voice called from the wall of flame beyond. They were steadily being surrounded, Ken realized, trapped in the courtyard by a steadily growing wall of fire. And Ken already knew who was waiting for him. Omi had to get out of here.

"Omi, go. Get out." he grunted, pulling the youth up. Omi's protest was cut-off by that disgustingly familiar voice.

"No. If you want him to live, Hidaka, you're going to have to get past me. Lucky for both of you I felt generous enough to leave my poisoned-darts in my other sleeve. "

And so saying, Yanagi stepped into the wild orange light, face arrogant and calculating. He was gloating, Ken realized, and he hadn't even won the battle. Yet. Gods, what was it with all these people underestimating him? Beside him, Omi tensed, and Ken put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. In the next instant he used that hand to pull Omi out of danger's path once more. He growled.

"You wanna fight? Fine. Bring it on. But you fight me first. Leave the kid out of it." If Omi wasn't in such pain he might have dredged up the energy to frown disapprovingly at Ken's reference to him being a 'kid'. Yanagi only threw his head back and laughed.

"You've forgotten the rules _already_? Anyone is fair game my dear boy. _Anyone._"

And the game was begun.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ran felt sick when he reached the clearing and saw only Yohji standing there, a disturbed look on his face. He was sporting the same shade of grey as the time he'd come to warn Ran that Kase had only returned to see Ken off to an early grave.

"Where are—" the playboy cut him off, grabbing his arm and wasting no time in launching them back towards the fray.

"Schwartz is here. And so is Yanagi." that was all the brunet had to say before Ran shook him off and charged full-speed towards the place that Omi and Ken should have come from. The Gods help _anyone_ if Ken was harmed. Or Omi for that matter. Ran was getting damn tired of having to worry over the lives of his comrades. And dammit if he wasn't going to have some _blood_ to show for it this night.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yanagi squinted through the thick smoke in the air, belatedly realizing that he'd likely picked a poor place to battle. Then again, he'd expected to have finished both Hidaka _and_ his companion before the flames got anywhere near him. He'd wanted to leave their bodies to be burned neatly, so as to leave no trace.

Damn it all if Hidaka hadn't gotten better than he'd been the _last_ time Yanagi had seen him. The young man before him was not the same unsure youth with low self-esteem and a blinding naiveté. Yanagi supposed Kase had seen to the death of that. Ken had removed his shirt and his darker skin seemed to blend with the shadows and the brilliant flares of color in the flames, making it nearly impossible for him to predict the ninja's strikes, to see his muscle-movements.

Any attempts to gain the upper hand by exploiting Ken's comrade had been nill, as despite such a painful injury, the youth seemed to hold well enough on his own. He followed the fight with a skilled patience, seemingly able to track _both_ their moves with more ease than he had a right to. Yanagi knew as well that he had wound up with the disadvantage. Pale skin and white hair set against the darkness of his clothing now stood-out easily against angry orange flames. The assassin was regretting not using poisoned darts on the younger man now. As it was, both men dodged his shots quite well since they were expecting them. Added to the fact that his aim was off due to the smoke.

Ken had smartly wrapped his mouth-cloth back around his head, and seemed to be faring rather well. Steeling himself, Yanagi resolved not to let the younger man _keep_ that upper hand.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Omi watched with wide, apprehensive eyes as the battle raged on. At the same time his peripheral vision marked the progress of the raging inferno around them, and his nervousness grew slightly deeper. Gods, if Ken didn't hurry up, they were _all_ going to die.

But it seemed that despite his best efforts, Ken was unable to best his opponent. His bare chest glistened with sweat and the blood from minor wounds. The ninja barley reflected an attack in time to throw himself to the ground in a move that looked unbalanced and knock Yanagi's feet out from under him. Disappointingly, the older man refused to be felled, and he simply flipped backwards and out of Ken's immediate reach.

With a frustrated sound, Ken lunged forward forcefully, like lightening, and made several precise, quick slashes at Yanagi, all skillfully and coolly dodged by the silver-headed ninja.

And somehow, it made Omi realize how young Ken really was. His moves, although expert, had the quick sureness of youth; a slight arrogance and desire to simply be _done_ with things, and a surety that _he_ would be the one to end them, if only his opponent would just bloody hold _still_. The brunet's muscles glinted in the light, beneath skin still young and fresh, everything firm and ready, tense and waiting.

Yanagi moved slowly, like a man who could fight for eternity if he had to, and by all means, expected to. Where he lacked Ken's vivacity and youthful eagerness, he made up for it with age and a wisdom that went a long way in understanding the battlefield.

This could last forever, the young prince decided.

And they didn't have forever. In fact, they didn't even have five minutes. Regretting his decision, Omi reached slowly into his sleeve, pulling several poisoned shuriken. He palmed them between his fingers and waited, striving to make himself look as if he were only watching and nothing else. It didn't matter. Both men had ceased to pay attention to him.

With an accuracy many would have found astounding in one so young and aristocratic, Omi unleashed two of his darts. One flew straight and true, into the ribs along Yanagi's side. The other was deflected instinctually, and nearly lodged itself into Ken's heart, had the ninja not had quick reflexes. Yanagi gasped and clutched at his side, but Ken wasted no time. Lunging forward, the ninja buried both of Ryuuta's hand claws to the hilt in the other man's chest. He snarled, wrenching them out viciously as Yanagi fell forward, coughing blood, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"That was for Takeshi. And Ryuuta." the ninja spat, bounding backwards to prevent Yanagi from latching on to him and potentially trying a sneak attack.

"Too close-minded and arrogant, old man." the insult heaped to the injury, Ken whipped out his wakezashi and sliced Yanagi's head off in one fell swoop. He caught it by the hair as it fell, letting the body fall to the ground with and undignified 'thump'. Sheathing his weapon, he turned to Omi.

"Thanks. Let's get the hell out of here." he murmured, wrapping the youth in his discarded haori. He secured Yanagi's head to a rope at his waist and then helped the youth towards the wall of flame. They both looked up, considering. Omi didn't like the looks of any of it. Before he could say anything, however, Ken motioned for him to wait, and darted off towards a corner, head swinging with his movements like a grisly purse of gold. When he returned, he carried two buckets; one which he dumped over Omi's head, and another he dumped over his own.

Without giving Omi time to protest or ask, he grabbed the youth roughly and launched them full-force into the wall of flames.

Omi closed his eyes, and prayed to the Gods.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Ran was understandably enraged at having his path to Ken cut-off rather abruptly. There were a select few who saw the rage of Fujimiya Ran, when directed at them, and lived to tell about it.

Fortunatley, Schuldig seemed to be doing this with incredible ease. After all, he'd had to make sure they at least _looked_ like they'd tired to tangle with Weiss. He could see Farferello out of the corner of his eye, gleefully hacking at a cursing Yohji. A shame. He rather found Weiss more intriguing than most of their Japanese brethren. That whole outside-of-society thing he supposed.

He sidestepped easily and dodged a katana coming at him with enough force to likely sever stone. It didn't nearly manage to sever the smirk that had yet to leave his face, and that, coupled with his still-neat clothing, seemed to infuriate Ran further. Which in turn made his moves increasingly wild, although none-too lacking in the force department. The man was certainly lucky Schuldig was not out to kill him this night, and he locked away the knowledge of Ran's berserker reactions to anything dealing with the dark-haired ninja of Weiss. Thus far, Ran had taken far more injury than he'd given. And Schuldig didn't think he'd _ever_ had more fun.

He was readying himself to award the ronin a slight prick against his sword—an attempt to teach the red-head that thinking with his head might be prudent, when a smoldering weight landed atop him, sending him crashing heavily and disorientingly to the ground. It sat heavily upon him, and the telepath belatedly realized, once his head stopped spinning, that he couldn't move his arms. They were pinned between someone's knees. Someone's very charred and sooty knees, that reeked of woodsmoke and burnt flesh. He cursed, fluidly. Atop him, Ken Hidaka pressed the blades of his hand-claws into the back of the German's neck and growled in a manner not unlike a very angry guard-dog. The young Prince Omi squeaked in surprise somewhere beside him. Far-off, Farferello was laughing in a less maniacal way, and a way that spoke more of a man who's just seen something incredibly humorous. Like Schuldig getting squished by a flaming brown-haired ninja. Sometimes life was just not fair.

Farferello's laughter suddenly ended abruptly with what sounded like a strangled noise. _Great_. Crawford was going to skin him alive when they got back. Assuming they would. Weiss' mental state was not exactly cheery or of any form of saintly patience. Nor were they in the mood for game-playing.

Then again, Crawford had probably foreseen this, and was laughing off his ass about it. In his own 'show no emotion' sort of way of course. That damn bloody _arrogant_ smirk. Schuldig _hated_ that smirk.

Just as suddenly as he had fallen, there came a squawking noise above him and the weight was slowly lifted off. In front of him somewhere, the ronin berserker yelled out "Ken! Omi!" That gave the telepath a pretty good clue as to what was going on.

_Hurry-up, dammit, I don't have all night. The next time you want to play games, Crawford can save you **himself**._ Nagi's mental voice was music to Schuldig's ears. He was up and out of the way swiftly even as Farferello was doing the same thing. Knowing the youth could only hold three of their enemies at once for only so long, the German grabbed his partner in crime and made a hasty, melting exit into the shadows.

_This isn't over, **Weiss**_. He hissed in parting.

And then Schwartz was gone.

Ken and Omi thumped painfully to the ground, the ninja using his body to shield the already injured prince from further damage, and Yohji's previously still form came suddenly to life.

Ran bolted forward and threw his arms around both Ken and Omi in an uncharacteristic display. It lasted for only a moment before he pulled back and regarded the two of them with sharp eyes.

"Status?" Yohji inquired coolly, brushing off his clothing as he approached. Omi sighed wearily.

"Mission complete. And Yanagi is dead." his voice sounded flat. Weiss' faces were grim as they looked at each other.

" And it would seem Weiss has made an enemy." the prince concluded. Stiffly, the four trod off towards home. There was nothing else they could do, at the moment.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Yeah, crap. Updated. Finished Yanagi. Takatori is dead. The next arc will be just as complicated, so please don't expect a speedy update. I'll be leaving on a jet plane in 12 days. Arriving in America in 17. Wish me luck. And my kitty to: ) We're theorizing she's at least part Siberian. That just tickles me. Ja ne!

I'm off to write my farewell speech. Ugh. In Japanese. Talk about luck…

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO


End file.
